Driving Time

Unified against the night, in a car plummeting at breakneck speed
Toward an undefined and unimportant destination,
There is nothing but time.
Their minds are lost in the ecstatic babble of music
And in the smell of the earth that is flung from beneath the tires,
Away into the shattered night. A night filled with a chattering chorus—
Stone against stone, and stone against metal—
Echoing distantly the pulse of body and skin.
Throbbing youth:
Impossible, irresistible, and gone.
Because now their fingers are knotted and blue,
And though their eyes are filmed, they can see
That there was never a car fast enough to outrun the future.
Time, the absentee father, holds sway.