I was born in the driver’s seat

I was born
In the driver’s seat
Of a car
That has gone
Out of date mad

I assemble a new car
From the branches of trees
From the rocks I dig up
From milk bottles

I route the branches
Into the milk bottles
I round off the rocks
To make wheels

I dream about my new dashboard
Like a meeting place for witches
In a rocket ship to the moon

Someone whacks it mid-flight to mars
With a hammer

I collect the guts of the rocket ship
Onto a table cloth
To update them
With anti-alien software

I walk about the two dark inner rooms
Of nowhere
Like a piece of defunct machinery

I do not see colour anymore
And my speech is lonely

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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