We Let Joe Drive

We are lolling and giggling
in the back seat of the sheik’s car
to another unknown destination
on another adventure.

I’m game. I am just months
back from the Sunshine State,
still burning from re-entry.

Displacement doesn’t suit me
and I am often angry
because volatility is better
than admitting I’m afraid, better than
looking beyond 3A, through
the pot smoke and into the future.

We ride in the back
seat dying laughing and never
really explaining ourselves.

I don’t think to wonder
if I’ll want to go back and bottle
these endless possibilities
and resell it to myself as the nectar
of foolish youth. I can’t imagine
winter here let alone
a Spring without Joe, somewhere
off in that nebulous future I’m trying to avoid.

Joe drives, regales us with stories,
schemes, plans. Over coffee,
The Big Time
is always within reach.

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