Megumi and the White Car

That white car has been sitting there for quite some time. Swinging a sledge hammer over my head, the bright chock of weight splitting stone poofs up from the front porch. I went back to Ohio. That day we left cinderblock rubble in front of the house; they say the English have bad teeth. Is any of this true? You'd hate to leave it just lying there. Eating must be very hard for them, all that porous stone in riptide angles. That white car just sitting there for quite some time is our neighbors; I can see it from this window, but that means I'm denied it's use. When Caleb apologizes spontaneously to her, he becomes a man, and the little boy with a pinched face lashing and spitting at everything he sees is gone. He'll be back, but now we know her shadow.
Darker rides, darker rides, and the little boy
with a pinched heart. I repeat myself across
the room, bursting May leaves with a sap
not even you knew would come. I've come
to look for America. Your bad teeth
deny you the sustenence and the sentience
to bleach lopped halls with loops from
my origination, my divinity, and the sanguine.
That black car that's never been on this block
is our use; we smashed the front steps
and dragged them off behind the trees

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