Ghosts in the Dashboard

Eight dreaded drafts, sitting in limbo, staring back at me. My attention is drawn to what’s lurking in the draft section of my dashboard, and so I accept the writing challenge and  pull fragments from these ghosts to craft my very own “found poetry” from my dashboard detritus.  It turned out curiously creepy↓


Backwards logic is costly
Normal locomotion isn’t necessary
To tread water in the deep end
Of the outskirts of Wichita in
His obvious shiny red truck

Words buckle up like
An apple in agony as
He extracts a spoon for
Some middle-spun speak
On the abolition of optimism

On angels waltzing
In their underwear through
A wormhole of a heart
In nice concentric circles
(I don’t remember the words exactly)

Say nothing
Benign to fool
Or pumpkin to promise
I will eat my way
Out of the pan

I should dice him up
On the bench seat
And  let particles swirl
With fury inside,
Feeling nothing

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