MapQuest

by Amy Soricelli

I would not be the sturdy blue car packed with backseat luggage
if I would be on wheels.
So safe, shiny in the solid traffic -
you can see the walnut radio waving to you from the front.
Deep forest aunts and uncles in hidden, perfect houses -
road maps across the lap of every high school girl you envied.

I would not be the flashy red sports car
if i would be on wheels.
Swift in the wind, crisp choppy words hitting against the glass like bugs -
its trendy, bubbling sunshine
always alone in crowds filled with shallow wine and good intention.

I would not be the speckled wagon bumper stickers - dents and dings
if I would be on wheels.
Fair living day to day with struggle jammed-high into small, darkened spaces.
Hope cradled between your knees like a sullen, spoiled child.

I would be the small car, over there,
the one sitting on its last drop of gas -
parked deep into some bush listening to the news.