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.