The air freshener smells like a chemical pine

The air freshener smells like a chemical pine

that’s trying too hard to hide the smell of age.

This upholstery isn’t mine, the stains aren’t mine,

but I’m the one turning the odometer page.

I found a dry cleaning receipt for a suit

my brother hasn't worn in three whole years.

It was wedged by the seat track, a piece of loot

from a life I only see when the smoke clears.

The key fob is heavy, a silver weight

swinging in a pocket that usually stays light.

I have to bring it back before it gets late

and walk home alone through the rest of the night.