Velocity

The eye clinic gave him the drops at ten.

I drove him there, but he drove us back.

He hates the way I treat the brake,

so he took the wheel with a sudden crack

of his knuckles. He took the left on two wheels,

forty miles an hour into the sun.

He tried to flick his ash out the window

but the glass was up. He’s the only one

who doesn't notice the gray bloom on his vest.

He just stares straight ahead at the white line,

refusing to check the rearview mirror

like everything behind him is doing just fine.