The earth's gravitational pull

For some people, it’s the shower. For others, their favorite fallen log in the woods by their house, or their desk next to the third-floor picture window.

For me, for whatever reason, inspiration always hits me like a head-on collision while I’m driving. My car-whose name is Sunny-is like a magical vehicle of metaphysical contemplation. Kind of like the time machine in Back to the Future (only without the inadvertent creation/disruption of alternate timelines… I think).

 

What Doc Brown Meant

I trundle along on gravity-encumbered wheels

tracing yellow on one side,

green on the other.

But miles away,

there’s a place where this road meets

a hole in the clouds made by energy

and poetry

and its jagged edge swallows the road

letting the stars in

and the fireflies out.

 

If I drive far enough

the yellow and green will fade from my rear-view mirror

and the earth’s leaden core will soften its grip

so these wheels will lift off

and tread on air

and the streetlights will blink goodbye,

tracing the edges of a song.