Gremlin

there is an elec­tri­cal
grem­lin in my car
I turn the key and a cough laugh gasps
di­als wild clock re­sets
stranded in mid-Ohio
my son asks “are we there yet?“
I tell him “some­times it’s
okay to be lost.”

(9 line poem writ­ten in 9 min­utes at SPIT open mic)

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