speed limits

if we get home, i want to open all the windows
& let the bugs in. yesterday i drove to 
new york city alone. i prefer to speed by myself.
then no one can see just how bad 
a driver i am. well, i guess that is 
besides all the cars around me. but that is at least
an anonymous kind of shame. they were
having all their own little horrors anyway. horns 
& necklaces of taillights. i crave to go faster
than i should. i don't know if this is a confession
or a proclamation. when i was small
my dad would drive me through the cornfield roads
in the blue jeep. he drove as fast as he could.
the air moved through us & we briefly became birds.
i miss that car. it was like
an uncle & a dog at once. a creature that carried
us through thunderstorms & firefly seances.
i take the speed limit & chew on the zeros.
the roads are full of ghosts. i have been traveling
so much lately that i am starting to feel like i'm
living out of my car again. don't get me wrong
that was awful but there were these moments
of sugary smallness. a parking lot without 
any street lamps. a gas station brownie.
a moth too stunning to be from here. 
we get home & there is no house. there is just
a speed limit sign. a herald of the go-fast times
which we are barreling towards. the cicadas 
twirl their engines. the mosquitoes plant gems
beneath our flesh. i tell you, "i think we should 
get going." the headlights each swallow 
their own throats' worth of dark.