It's one of those low-to-the-ground station-wagons,
long, white, missing 3 out of 4 hubcaps,
a piece of chrome hanging off the side of it…
As usual, there is no driver.
There is
a diner
45 miles from here.
It's owned by a Navaho insurance salesman…
He likes to be called
"Teleological Field Day."
Icebergs, Limited -
that's the name of his insurance company.
Oh, I forgot to mention earlier:
all of this is surrounded
by miles and miles of empty space.
But you all know that already.
 |
And, or rather,
Also,
something else I almost forgot to mention:
a miniature portrait of Queen Elizabeth II
hanging from the rearview mirror.
© 2005 Jonah Winter
is the author of two books of poems, Maine and Amnesia.
His work has appeared in recent issues of Margie, The Literary Review, Octopus, and McSweeney's Internet Tendency.
