[Inspired by Ras G’s “Juju”:]
A key that’s turned, quick insert to life:
fast awakening growling beast, a wife
more real to man, though metallic, than any flesh
denying means of transport. This way of living fresh
for the ride, for the glide,
the drive along the world’s highways. The slide
of hand along the body, gleaming skin.
That world his life, spectacle not slim
of humanity in guises all: the kid, the dad,
the happy couple, the family screaming bad
at each other, curses all round –
these he watches, wheeling skimming the ground
as he speeds along, rubber burning.
Long as he moves, no longer is he yearning
for the open road, unburdened by shackled finger
of his brothers left behind, made to linger
for woman’s cause, and baby one, two, three – or none.
Just him. Just this car. Just freedom to run.
[Copyright N R Nolan © 2015]
