In the Trunk

In his trunk, God stores a bunch of stuff
left over from creation, extra fluff
and surplus trim not thrown to fuel the fire
sufficiently hot to cast his image’s desire,
along with odds and ends not up to snuff.

I thought it an incredibly obvious bluff
him stranding us in a random outtake’s spoof.
Who sells a used car with no spare tire
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in its trunk?

We’re shrugged off abandoned, love. Want proof?
Check out these tattoos from our fisticuff
therapy. This necklace from my wire
necktie. The dead silence of that black quagmire
we’ll be left in once driven out far enough
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in the trunk.



by sara, with michael and cyn


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