Dead on arrival

Hear the engine scream
In this familiar hazy dream
Eighty, ninety — it’s all a blur
All these thoughts of her

Racing through the night
Unable to see the light
Completely out of control
Chaotic misery the goal

This car is past its limit
Glad I’m strapped in it
Expecting to go up in flames
No regrets, remorse, or names

Hurtling through the dark city
Blind from self-loathing pity
No brakes until the car gives out
And rolls to a stop, no doubt

I reach for another bottle
Already at full throttle
Not looking to slow down
Tired of wearing this crown

Teetering well past the brink
It’s time for one last drink
How long is the wick of a candle
Let’s see if this car can handle

The bridge is coming up quick
Shit, I’m starting to feel sick
Tachometer stuck in the red
Crash, bang, burn — I’m dead…

The angels surveyed the wreck
They were there to do their check
“Is this one worth keeping alive?”
“He continues to drink and drive.”

Huddled around to study the cases
Verdict already written on their faces
Choices caught up to me that day
As my soul began to float away.


A poem by Jason S. Sullivan, 07-28-20

6 thoughts on “Dead on arrival

  1. Very sad, Jason. what a pity. It is well-written, full of emotion. I found you on Stuart Danker’s blog and liked one of your comments about writing about local history. I was invited by Arcadia Press to write a book about my little community based on a blog post I published. So you are taking the right steps by having a blog. You never know when it will be just what someone is looking for. 🙂

    Like

    1. Thanks for stopping by, Marsha! And for your kind words!

      I like Stuart’s blog. He’s insightful. Thanks for sharing the story about your blog post turning into a book! That surely was exciting for you. I would love for that to happen to me. It’s inspiring to see that it can happen — and you’re right, you never know who will read it or what it will turn into!

      Liked by 1 person

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