ROADBURN

ROADBURN

It is clear
from the scuffed shuffle
shoulders askew
and the baleful backward glare
that there is anger here,
and the glisten on the cheeks
signifies distress in some measure:
the car door slam punctuates the mood.

First off, we note
with some distress,
a slantwise, tangential
kick-off from kerb
gears in a grind, maximum revs
on the grim gritty highways
in the immutable, immoveable
impassable city of hard angles
and harder truths.

Now, in the merry-go-round meander
of the metropolitan maze
a mish-mash of closed in corners
and caught in cul-de-sacs
a warp in the weft of the night’s grubby weave
of concrete and seamless, sullen sky,
we see the scurry of the seeker
of selective amnesia
rattled but rolling
exit-bound.

Aside, on the very verge,
roadside hopefuls [females all]
stand, thumbs raised prettily -
skirts too, wolf-whistle high and rising,
a sensual sidetrack spurned
and barely sensed
in the soporific solitude
of settled speed
and cyclopean sight.

Behind,
rear view mirrored
black road ribbon disappears
like broken trust,
Behind,
the tyre-seared tarmac tapers
to nothing, like absent faith

Ahead,
just ahead, low to the ground
with hasteless speed
crosses the hurtling path
a [classify] what's that: cat? not cat …
the hint-glint of eyes, the tail, the size
signifies fox;
fearless, fine, and finally free
ahead
just ahead.

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I am, I suppose, a reluctant driver – indeed I didn’t learn to drive until 40 years old, and only then because it was necessary for my job. I have no interest whatsoever in cars and speed in any form holds no thrills.

Yet when I am badly hurt emotionally or under stress I find a moderately long drive strangely calming and comforting. It may be because I’m so focussed on the act of driving – I’d pass my children without noticing – that it gives some much-needed respite from all the unwanted ills and misfortunes.

The drive described below was from my ex-wife’s home to my stepfather’s house, a journey of less than thirty minutes. I’d just been given the second instalment of her list of infidelities.

Ahead was the only way.

This is last of the 'Betrayal' trilogy