1 Poem by
David Greenspan
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(untitled)
stuck under the wheel
changing tires to donuts back to tires
through the same empty car wash
for months before you find out
there's a half hour wait.
Anabasis in the sun
like some old skinny man determined
to have everything in order before he's up,
this way there is no wasted time
throwing out empty bags and half-smoked cigarettes
at the vacuum which is a mere u-turn from your last spray,
but he's down as the cars factory in one more
and he's only two away,
eight minutes at least without time for quarterly deposits
and he makes a dash to the trash
with a handful of glass bottles
and unread newspapers with the crosswords ripped out and undone
and one more link through as he rushes to his wheel.
One down and one to go
as he moves just five feet from carnuba heaven
but there's so much to do and you know how that goes
and he pleads to anything that may help him
that this woman is the same kind of anal-retentive washer
that he is himself and will make sure that the car
is shining like cartoon smiles so he can finish
his pre-wash in time.
And he drools as the brushes spin
and he only for a split hair-second notices that
the redneck's white shirt has become damp as her red hair
in the steam and foam through the grates
and as he pushes on the eternal smudge he puts
his palm through the glass
and he can't believe the mess he's made
his blue chamois spotted red as his seats,
the wet redhead pulling out
and he can only cry over his schedule
because he'll never catch up now
and I can only pass him my dirty reusable 75c chamois
and go back to my car to laugh.
(untitled)
He imagines he's in a movie
as each passerby becomes an extra
each turn of the corner a new song
plays in his head and he frowns
and squints accordingly
because the walks in this town
allow for each emotion
and a 90 minute mix tape of cool music.
And he pats the tail end of a big gray buick
and waves hello to the old crazy
that he knows by name
and after a few minutes of chewing the fat
he realizes that this will be the sad end of his movie.
He's not on his way to a big meeting,
not with a woman,
not with a gangster,
not even a friend.
Only out to pick up the car that he was too drunk
to drive home the night before
and as he unlocks the door and blows on his hands
and the tape starts and he realizes he has no place to go.
So he imagines himself doing jobs
and driving everywhere in town
where he knows he knows someone.
And five songs into his 90 minutes he realizes
he hasn't even finished the tape
and he hasn't heard a song in nearly two whole minutes.
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