To a fiance

There’s few things lonelier than driving in the car alone at night.
Maybe it's hard on the soul.

I mean, look at what I'm doing:

press the accelerator and its
Bombs.

Bombs bursting morings to
Roll wheels
into a rabid friction.

nitty-bitty spiders gnawing air-tissue:
wild sound striating
from the maw of this beasty coop.
asynchronous and jaggy,
waves belch the air into
a tortuous froth of ricochet blatther:
A spider web of centerfugal glass
Roaring forward foamy frantic.
A noise damn near solid.

Cocoon, cocoon, cocooned
We are in it. The road inches under feet.
The curb feet and miles
Through thick and sickly sound.
Shrouded clear tanks zooming muck,
fragile.

I see the trucker two lengths away
Now an hour. But your picture what was it?
Family brother wife? And auburn girl
In rabbit with hipster glasses mouthing lyrics
what? Brittany? Gaga? mother night?
Aaagh...so close in this infinite far.

funny: in the car it's so quiet.
sit here for miles ignoring the choas outside,
like a creak in my neck that's been there too long.
I can phone a friend or sing the radio, penetrate myself with these electric waves that scuddle the din.

I'm afraid, my love, one day these distractions will run out - the radio statics; my phone dies


And I'll hear a sound from outside


I'll hear in my chaos crevice of an eddy of a seat,
I'll hear, I'll hear, a breathy hollow thought
That will scare me.
And will scare me of you.
"
You met her in the cocoon of loveless days.
you are a love lorn streaming to new york through an only way to an only romance.
she is the only passenger smile in your car.
can you say no? can she? Don't you know,
The voice will whisper-quake, don't
You know it's an awful haze, but
Don't you know you have
autopilot engaged?
"