Attach an identity to a boat and all together we are lonely looking for the next thrill.
Hub Cap Moon
Inside a chrome shell hides a heart of spinning metal.
Glowing coils ignite and reduce a fossil to carbon farting out the soot of unprocessed youth.
Roll an injector in blackened fingers, clear the mind in an observation pure as a fowled plug.
Still passions impede.
Haunted and chased, temporary as a clutch look up at a hub cap moon and try.
Blunt and charmless
P da P