check engine light

let's see if we can just make it until the sun
finally bursts. it won't be that much
longer now but i don't want
to live through the end of the world
without a getaway car. plus you & i both know
you are not ready to die. 
i put the key in your mouth 
& close my eyes. i drive eyes shut &
just hope we end up where we're supposed to.
gas stations bloom & we go to drink 
some sick nectar. 
i wish my skull had little lights like yours 
to show people walking by that i am
not all there. that there is something
unnamable wrong. i always think
the check engine light looks like
a little fist. a clenched halo. we drove you once
for miles & miles with no oil at all.
you bleed beneath the parking spot. 
couch up a dinosaur. every time we get
on the highway i beg you, "let's keep it going
just a little longer." one more city.
one more road. one round-about. 
the brief solar systems we make. 
i put the key into my own mouth
to try it out. a thrum inside my chest.
a sea of gasoline. a beast for an engine. 
i keep a map in the glove box 
in case i have to walk home without you.