Installment 34 of Car Poems slows down for a closer look at quotidien situations that we normally bypass. Alyssa Harmon’s vignettes invite us to linger upon car ads, sudden departures, and passengers for whom we take longer than necessary.
***
a car advertisement
jeep wrangler 1997
62416 miles
manual transmission (that’s why he won’t hold your hand)
gas meter not very reliable (or maybe it was just his poor judgment)
cool ac for the sticky florida summers
removable soft top for unplanned drives in storms
a loud engine to fill the heavy silences
one too many nights spent in the backseat
***
everyone says goodbye
she cries a little when the tiny, old, blue, beat up car that’s been driving next to her for seventeen miles
gets off on exit 24. no warning, save for a blinker at the last minute as he swerves all the
way from the left lane to the exit.
***
you are on the fastest route, and your route is clear
i never understood why
people drive slowly in the right lane
until you were riding shotgun
