we kicked the tires.
popped the hood.
the only smoke
billowing
was not from fire
but from my cigarette.
so you smacked it
outta my hand.
it'll explode you say
and we smoked it.
we smoked
the last of our marlies.
you still sat with me
in the dead metal
of the car.
useless revving
seemed to be
a recurring theme.
