Elizabeth Bachinsky


A tea cup, a spark-plug, some hard knick knack,
anything made of porcelain will do
the trick and knock a window out, smooth
as snow settles on a lawn.  One good crack
and shush the glass is filigree & gold.  You’re in.
Linger.  Run your hands across the wheel. Stop
at ten and two, check the rearview,  pop
the clutch and…nothing –shit – The thing’s been up on
blocks since 1982, but wait, there’s still
a ton to take: ACDC on tape,
only slightly warped, a handful of change.
The air is close and hot.  Look, you can steal
a kiss in this dark car or kick the dash and take
The stereo.  Decisions, decisions, decisions.