In summer time
I am an air conditioned icicle
…in winter, the steam which haunts the house.
I will not go into the grocery store with you Rachel
…I will ride along in the car
and be a witness to the distant terror of the world.
Images pass along through glass
much like the traffic of TV
…but I have lost the courage and strength
to go inside
and dance around these fat and hungry savages,
these muscled trolls who stroll and block the aisles
sneering with the powerful joy
of their consumption.
I will wait and stare through glass
for my girl-hero to return
to the sanctuary of our automobile
(our horseless miracle)
with a good natured oblivion
to those inner things which terrorize…