Alignment Issues

It’s been there since the January freeze,

a jagged mouth in the middle of 4th Street

that the city trucks always seem to miss.

I hit it every morning on the way to the desk,

a violent jolt that rattles my molars

and makes the steering wheel lean left

like it’s trying to steer me off the clock.

Today it finally won.

The paper cup buckled in the holder

and sent a lukewarm wave of brown

across my thighs and the driver’s seat.

I pulled over and watched the coffee soak

into the yellowed foam of that one tear

in the upholstery I’ve been meaning to tape.

I sat there with my hands on the rim,

feeling the engine vibrate against my palms,

just looking at the steam rise off my knees.

The city is full of these little traps,

waiting for you to stop paying attention

so they can remind you that everything

is slowly shaking itself apart.