Ten and two

Hands, weathered gripped the wheel

Wipers scraping

Rubber drags back and forth

Bench seat hardly soft

Softy hard

Smells of 1982

Menthol cigarettes

Stale thoughts unsaid

Water splashes, dripping, dropped

Staring ahead

Glancing uncomfortably silent

Whining country guitars

Ancient sounding vocals

1-2-3-1-2-3

Out of the speaker twangy

Headlights reflecting sadness

Choirs belt in churches passed

Lonely bus stops wet

Front yard America soggy

Sleeping window vibrates teeth

Feet sweaty under heater blast

Windshield distorted rain painted

Seeing shapes abstracted

Mind grinds into word sausage

Fragmented futures typed

It was my birth

Poetically speaking

Ten and two