driving down the 133, an internal
announcement skipped, then screamed.
my engine made this unusual rattling sound.
so i turn up the radio. my solution. a fitting
remedy. for the moment.

until the minute
my mechanic
yells at me for not
calling him.

i panicked, “what am i? your bitch?”
his fingernails house grease.
as his arms link with dirty hands.
all mechanics have filthy mouths.

i didn’t really mean it.
he took it as everyday
language, but

this month i paid his rent.
he fixed my motor mount.
and added a dent.
by accident.

i guess that’s what i get
for throwing a fit.

i called grandma this morning.
just to tell her i loved her
on the answering machine.
i got to explaining how,
now, i know why she always
yelled at me to turn down
the radio.

as i left for the day
heading out the front door.
i noticed
a notice stating.
‘your rent was due
a month before.’

the thought cloud in my head
was dark and heavy
like rain drops dripping
down the window
the fog was lingering
lower than usual.

getting into my dented car
something was disturbing my mind.
hitting the curb with my tire.
blurred vision.
everything in me, tired.
to third eye blind.

get it together, man
wake up and pay attention.

tonight, i was drifting as i was driving.
having fatal thoughts of sui…

it’s raining.
mom called
how grandma
just died.