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
