My desire is driven here
in a Chevy Cavalier.
lots of pot, cussing in every sentence,
and, of course, sex, ready
for its course at 17.

Out here in the ageless suburb
of Maryland, the neighbors are burning
their trash in a hollow trash barrel again.
the sky is shot, dirt is ravaged with ants,
the lawn a California mountain brown.

Next to my uncle’s bedside
the police radio transmits static
amidst haze of cigarette smoke,
with ashes falling onto
the Bible on the coffee stand.

He pours out some peach schnapps
in a paper cup
and tells me “relax.”
It is too warm
and turns my tongue yellow.

I flop down into the dirty sheets
basking in the hallway,
his cackle heard over the lit television
as I see where evolution is going.