the getaway car

Strange surreal crime caper poem.

the getaway car

we'd meet in the corners
of the library or bar
with doors ajar
(to spy for intruders
near or far)

i'd be caught in your eyes
my hand in the jar
you'd start to breathe heavy
say we're going too far

daily i'd seek the signal
from the getaway car
the blinding relief of
the getaway car

after robbing the day
of its raw ideals
leaving your tears
in a jumbled jar

we'd fumble our way into
the getaway car
that getaway car

we'd rob a bank
or steal a star
bundle it into
the getaway car

craze the streets
with a screech and a scare
taking corners
without a care

till

police cars howled

you'll not get far in
the getaway car
the getaway car

so we rumble into a dark and steamy area of the city
punching mobiles into the night

sirens on
cops surround us

we're trapped
trapped in
the getaway car

we couldn't get far
we couldn't get that far

we both step out
hands in the air
lean with our hands

on the getaway car