A single mother & her son
are driving down Roosevelt Boulevard
in a late 90's grey Geo Prism.
The car's radio is pulled out of the dashboard
and it is sitting on the little boy's lap.
He is turning the dial with his left hand
while staring out of the passenger side window.
The wires are exposed and the sun is rising.
A light summer fog is in the air.
2 comments:
Is the author an exposed wire fetishist?
good poem.
dude some of these poems are next level, been checkin in on and off...
-ravi binning
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