roadtrip

roadtrip

we have been
talking in circles
like
a long roadtrip-
and sometimes the car sputters
and sometimes the speed limit isn't posted
so we can go as fast as we want.
but eventually
we have to come home,
even if
home is somewhere we found.

and there are forks in the roads
and the map isn't very useful
since either you spilled your coffee
or i spilled my tea
onto it
(but it was
probably
the combination of the two).

and sometimes
i want to just toss you the keys
and leave- and
start hitchhiking back
to my little apartment
in the suburbs with
the garden right outside my bedroom window
and the painted iron lattice work on my porch
and i figure that
you can finish the trip yourself or
pick up some hitchhiker if you
need someone else to drive while you sleep
but then i realise that
we both rented the car,
so it's probably better if we both drove it at least.

and sometimes i feel
as if you'll leave me at
the motel one night
and drive away
in the middle of the night
(probably because i
was snoring,
or because there was someone who
would make a
better roadtrip partner
than i would that you met while you were getting ice
from the noisy, chilly,
leaking bohemoth of an ice machine).
and i'd wake up-
or worse, run to the balcony and see you
drive off, the
brake lights red in the twilight.
you'd probably leave a note,
but
it would still suck
because i'd at least want a fair chance
and i'd still have to call a taxi to get back
to my little apartment
in the suburbs with
the garden right outside my bedroom window
and the painted iron lattice work on my porch
and it would suck if
you got a flat.

and still other sometimes
i wonder
if we'd drive off
into the unknown wilds
and discover new things like
what your favourite colour was
(you never know,
it might be the colour of the sunset
across the window rock, az desert)
or my favourite ice cream flavour
(i think it's vanilla right now, but
for all i know it could be
something erotic, like "guava"
but only from an ice cream store in the middle
of chicago).

and sometimes
i just wish
i could just pack up
and
go
with the car idling
in the driveway
and you honking the horn,
in front of my little apartment
in the suburbs with
the garden right outside my bedroom window
and the painted iron lattice work on my porch with
the brake lights
red
in the twilight.