I wake up in a car hurtling down the
highway with my seatbelt hanging
somewhere between the seat and the door, standing
in the middle of the floor between the seats, with one hand
on an armrest that calmly explains,
through sticky plastic lips, that it would like to rest today
and I will have to find another support system. My feet
slide on well-worn floor mats. The steering wheel
turns without hands to guide it, and I
cannot see who is sitting in the driver’s seat. The trees outside
blur into impressionistic paintings of green and brown
around the soleil levant before the windshield. My fingers close
on the door handle, and as the door slides open,
I wake up in another dream.