Your car consumes me.

I get in and it rolls backwards down the drive before

I’ve even shut the door, trying to take me with it, trying to swallow

me, but failing. Failure rises up from the floor, trying to nip me, trying to

grab another chance to mix me in with its tides of empty plastic.

Bottles, takeaway tubs, bubble wrap, and crumpled bags, tidalling (1) their way up

to my face, covering my mouth, my nose, my eyes – until, I can no longer see the

way ahead or the oncoming



Copyright owned by Jay Cool, March 2019


(1) Why Collins didn’t ask me to contribute to their English Dictionary, I will never fathom!

Image by Greyerbaby on Pixabay.


Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

One thought on “Carsuming

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