I have been driving my grandfathers minivan.He bought it a few years ago
in between pair after pair of shoes.
We all hoped they would carry him somewhere good
but they sat on the floor of his closet
made piles in the garage
rested on racks at Goodwill
They became part of another story
and grandpa tried to write a new chapter
with this van. It's actually the same chapter
he was trying to write with his shoes
but the adventure boiled off
and entertainment was left
and entertainment boiled off
and addiction was boiled down
into its purest form
and he made soup from its concentrate
It drives some men mad
others into complete obedience
(which is its own madness)
and one day, after lunch
he was raving to himself about this van
and he was hysterical
he wore his smile effortlessly
(the concentrate's anointing)
and for no particular deal
he got that perfectly standard van
leaving one thoroughly satisfied salesman.
Grandma spent the last few years of her life
in the passenger seat
a stroke had claimed her license
but also her cigarettes
but also her cooking
and that was the totality of things she controlled
but her voice she hid to save it
from the concentrate hideous effects
but as long as the concentrate thought
the stroke had claimed it as well
she thought it would be perfectly safe
she was right
it was perfectly hidden, even from her
And grandpa was still trying to write his story
but he didn't know it was the concentrate speaking
he didn't know he was still a young man
deer hunting in the foothills
and he is still there
and he is sixteen
and he is as he was
before his life was boiled down
and the minivan is another comma
in this run on sentence
chapter one, paragraph one
in the beginning was a boy
and he was constantly turning up the fire
and he was the one in the pot
and the water scalded him
and he didn't know it was the fires he made
that heated his waters
and now the concentrate is in him
and through him
and all around him
it is the narrative of life
it is his memories
it is his future
and when grandma passed
it was the first in a chain of losses
the concentrate wouldn't let him see
and after a couple years
he decided to lose his van to me
I have been driving my grandfathers minivan;
I am piloting a comma
if his life story.
