wet gunpowder

you borrow the car
mapquest her new house
drive for two days
and two nights
living on french fries
crossing statelines
not knowing exactly what you doing
not knowing what you looking for

you'd love not to be on this old buick
but drive a delorean instead
and go not to her house
but fly to the not so old times
when both of you were happy
(not so very much she would later admit)

there are no visions
no fuel for scribbling notes
wet gunpowder leaves a poet with no option

you stop at arby's
puke in the ladies room
get a token of southern hospitality
and your ass kicked

now you are definitely lost
now it's time to go home
was there any place to call like that
now you see your face on the stained mirror
and your eyes are yellow
your gums receding
your belly bloated

wet gunpowder makes the poet go mad
after the horrific confirmation
of history repeating itself endelessly

you borrow the car
mapquest her new house
drive for two days
not knowing exactly what you doing
not knowing what you looking for

you borrow the car


daniel bennett (Washington, DC, 1979)