Whenever I Scream in the Car
Whenever I scream in the car,
I turn down the radio,
And roll up my windows,
So that no one will know or hear me
Trying to raise whatever catharsis I can
From the someday scar tissue
Of my larynx.
Sometimes I get frustrated.
I don't know why,
But it feels good
Just to try
To exorcise the demons
That swell in my head
And to expunge their evils
Before they consume me.
Whenever I scream in the car,
I make sure to grip the wheel
Because I could lose control.
My wheels could slip on a shrouded patch
Of winter-paved black ice.
The rain could hydroplane me
Hood-first into a power line
As my face splits open,
Serrated by crumpled, burning strips of metal
That let my blood ooze down in small droplets
To mix in the oily residue
Streaming from the severed valves inside.
A cable could snap in the collision,
Smacking my car in spectacular fashion.
I could explode as I wake.
Whenever I scream in the car,
The passing drivers don't pay attention,
But their children do.
They're strapped into their seats
As if the very thought of gravity
Would fling them through the windshield
Into the merciless talons of fate.
They look at me with disapproval in their eyes.
They stare through me
To see that what disgruntles me disturbs them.
They appear so thoroughly ticked off
That I can't help but slowly close mouth,
Tilt my head and turn to them,
Feeling completely embarrassed.
Then, they laugh.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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