check engine 

i drive a half-ghost to all the little fires.
we are waiting for a two-truck & the moon
has a flashlight in her hand. 
at this point in my life i am more surprised
when the check engine light
goes off. that hasn't happened for months.
something is definitely wrong
& at stoplights my car will often turn
into a pile of worms. the birds come to feast.
on a particularly bad day last week
i had to beg a flock of crows to carry me
to work. they laughed & obliged.
on the phone my brother & talk about buses.
he's never taken a bus & i think,
"must be nice." instead, he sleeps in the attic
of my parent's house in a town that 
seems to get smaller each year. once in college
i fell asleep on the bus & ended up 
at the outlet stores. i thought i might as well
get out & walk around. i saw a store of
check engine lights & i didn't even have a car.
it follows you. is hereditary in a country 
of bigger & bigger cars. the glow.
the harbinger. it says this life will be expensive
& you should figure out alternate routes.
in high school i used to be obsessed
with hitchhiking. i did it only once.
i got into a strange woman's car (i chose a woman
because i had a sliver of self preservation).
on her dashboard the check engine light
was one & i felt safer. i ended up in the city 
on a corner that smelled like prunes & gasoline.
i don't remember how i got home but
until then i thought i could get anywhere.
in the rain, my check engine light
get dimmer. i have, in my last car, 
pushed on the dashboard as if i could
snuff out the future. of course it never worked
but for a moment it made me feel
like maybe it was possible to will away
an emergency. i am always the one
to turn off all the lamps in the house
on the way to bed. once i saw
a check engine light looking back at me
from the shadows of the house.
i turned away from it. told no one.
i is maybe still there, burning.