Black Cadillac

 


          BLACK CADILLAC

The dying summer took my friends away with it

I’ve stuck around the past 21 summers but this one was different

It was just as hot as my cousin’s workmate

I hid behind my smile and never said a word to her

And now am all alone in my cabin

Only echoes of the party nights linger in dark corners of the room

The antiques on the wall don’t talk much, neither do they toss jokes or drink beer

The aftermath of what seemed like nirvana

Clearly pain and pleasure are faces of the same coin

Lonely and somber, such feelings are like dirty socks

I really wont put them on

I would rather jump into my Black Cadillac and drive into the pain

As I drive, the moon peeks through the window and kisses my leather jacket making it glisten like nebulas

I know for sure that am alone but there is literally a whole lot of space in here

I can not out go any faster and neither can I out drive my rushing thoughts

I am a pressure cooker waiting to blow my steam out

I squeamishly continue driving knowing that if I stop I might get run over

Thinking should be declared illegal

I better coax my madness and get off this pendulum

All this seesaw play has left me with motion sickness

Stopping by the motel was not part of the plan but I ran out of gas and spent a night

I woke up in my cabin, right where I started

At least the Cadillac picture on the wall took me somewhere.

 

               A Poem by Kanyanta Chikesengi.

 

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