Expansion Tank

The radiator is throwing a tantrum again,

banging its iron fist against the floorboards

until the whole room vibrates with the heat of it.

Outside, the wind has a jagged edge

that catches the corner of my eye,

turning the streetlights into blurry, salt-streaked stars.

I walk past a Buick slumped against the curb,

its wheel wells choked with a frozen cement

of gray slush and gravel,

holding the tires hostage until the thaws of March.