deepundergroundpoetry.com
cables
the gentle rumble of the car
shakes the metal bottle in the cup holder
next to my mom’s elbow.
when the asphalt switches to cement
there’s a drowning hum that
lifts me from my thoughts.
must be a bridge.
the leather seats are cold.
but I’m the perfect height to take up
all the space they have to offer.
slowly
as if not at all
the black cables
through the window
above my feet
snake across the sky.
below the sun’s reach I’m
imbued in being
nowhere in particular.
shakes the metal bottle in the cup holder
next to my mom’s elbow.
when the asphalt switches to cement
there’s a drowning hum that
lifts me from my thoughts.
must be a bridge.
the leather seats are cold.
but I’m the perfect height to take up
all the space they have to offer.
slowly
as if not at all
the black cables
through the window
above my feet
snake across the sky.
below the sun’s reach I’m
imbued in being
nowhere in particular.
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