Tire Pressure

Kristin Heyder

I dream about driving

      and writing at the same time

I know it can be done because

when I was young aunt jenny would pin

sultry books

between the steering wheel                      and her thumbs

In my car

the radio only plays one song

it’s a lullaby

for my mother’s two sons

so instead of writing          I can only hum.

down on the corner, out in the street

 

my mom’s mom taught me ‘follow the queen’ before‘ seven card stud’

sat with me down on the rug

let me drink apple juice out of teacups

it’s her voice that hums when we take

the back way

to town, via Broadway Street

bring a nickel, tap your feet

I remember when the rule was

ring once, hang up

my mom would sit

head back          legs up      ear to chin

with my head in her lap        so I could listen in.

I press the gas pedal too hard at       stoplights

because my mom was afraid

to teach me how to drive

I ignore the   engine light

like jenny ignores    warning signs

and i write novels in my mind

to the tune of my grandma’s favorite lullaby

because I’m scared to drive

   in silence.