machine wheel

climb in and the heat is electric and old

decaying plastic and hot radio spitting out retro rock

dirty stink of cigarettes

burning engine oil

squeak goes the gas pedal

worn smooth to the metal

exposed like the shiny eye of bone

press down on this cyclops

and the sedan lurchs sloppily foreward

pulling on its inertia

my arm is burning on the ragged fuzz

of doorest

i take a lungfull of that vintage scent

passing feilds and barns

dreaming in my wheel machine

..O..