in between the tacky pitch-men working my distractible mind
about next sunday’s monster truck rally & the awful 
rooster-call of molly hatchet’s flirtin’ with disaster 
buzzing from your pickup’s one good speaker 

there’s a manic moment split sideways in which 
our blue eyes meet in their peripheries & we bloom 
absolute & alive as ever

a moment in which the sky cracked open 
casts its brightest mood in yours—a spark so rarely seen—
& we both peal into a spontaneous free-fall of laughter 
not unlike music 

& the rumble & thrum of your driver’s side window 
rolled all the way down feels like someone else’s 
frantic pulse throbbing in my ears 

like the touch 
of trembling fingers & crooked teeth-chatter & i can see 
there’s a sly hook that’s settled in to your upper lip 
which could be considered your smile 

right before you crank the wheel all the way to the right
& stomp down on the gas & here we are in this moment 
careening into a wild one-legged dance of parking-lot donuts 
at the abandoned DQ & in my mind 

we are each concentric circles spinning spinning evergreen & pealing 
tires screeching man-alive! holding onto this dear life 
by the oh-shit handles 

it’s in this moment that’s been split wide open 
in this cascading brilliant sunlight & empty blue 
that you look to me like someone who could rattle the sense 
out of me easily & there’s no doubt 
I’m gotten