S70

They detailed her at Genie Lube before
we left. Her white coat glimmered in the street,
reflecting Austin's August sun and, more
abstractly, hope. We held hands in the heat
and sped toward California with the child
asleep in back, the bug-eyed dog beside
him panting, Why? You drove her with a wild
intensity until we reached the wide
West Texas desert. We were astronauts
escaping boldly from an atmosphere
like glue. My Swedish rocket suffered lots
of damage on reentry, though, and where
she landed, here with me, it's not a place
for elegant, pale ships from outer space.