after ‘joyride‘ by Van Mei
In the car we’re enthralling
cinematic cool
telekinesis at ten and two in your hands
restricted, full, my god,
it’s all so heady and skittish
When one of us can drive
all of us can drive
What’s it like when st*****t people drive?
I don’t want to know
I ascribe no meaning to it
what can possibly be said
I surround myself with queer people who can drive
our existence alone skews the data
and look at you all double-skewing
the data can’t keep up when you’re driving this fast
I’m honestly a little hung up on it
driving as synecdoche
for all-encompassing competence
what do you mean you don’t have your life together
that you experience setbacks and
feel lack, doubt, incompleteness,
when I know you can drive? You can drive!
We surge like water
marching on four wheels
aux cord supernovas
permanent and vivid as the labels scrawled on our burnt cds
I feel so protective
and I want to demonstrate my usefulness
and yet here you are with all this adequacy and bravery
It’s still not for me
my role is ‘person who enthusiastically knows people who drive’
can’t say I haven’t tried
cutting the dead parts leaves behind a greater portion of that which is alive
and I am still a very good passenger
when you’re behind the wheel
riding the horse that trampled a king
