A blue car
is coming down
a blue mountain
and in it
is Swan.
Swan thinks,
I have for long
been perplexed
by the topic of love
and loneliness.
The question of car lights
out on the road
before dawn.
Well, I’m driving fast
and it’s kind of scary.
But I don’t mind,
I’ve got my Virgin Mary
glued to the dashboard of my car.
She comes in colors
blue and white.
It’s dark in her belly.
It’s out of sight,
what’s to come from
the great light spirit in the sky.
It might feel like
you’re driving out
in the desert
in your car, folks.
But it’s just a womb stage.
A blue car
is coming down
a blue mountain
and in it
is Swan.
The lights from
the controls inside her car,
light up her face.
The light coming from
behind her car,
comes from behind the mountains.
The light in her eyes,
comes from inside her.
Never leave home
without it.
It’s nice to know.
Swan thinks,
I only drive at night
when you can see the blue light
coming from inside.
The televisions.
No one on the street.
When the garbage trucks
are out lifting up the garbage.
And donut shops
light up the roads
that leave town.
It might feel like
you’re driving out
in the desert,
in your car, folks.
But lightning
is filling the desert.
A blue car
is coming down
a blue mountain
and in it Swan thinks,
In my car, I say what
we’re going to listen to
on the radio.
It’s my hand
that’s in control
of the radio band.
And the antennae on my car
is attached to the radio,
which is attached to my hand.
And sometimes, just sometimes
that antennae looks
like a big finger
stirring stars in the sky.
Like waves,
like light,
like stars
of the lights
of the donut shops
that light up the roads
that leave town.
I used to work
at one of those
donut shops.
It used to be me
you saw through the glass
from the highway.
Swan
Taylor Jane Green