wheels

you are burning
oil
and not getting
the gas mileage
that you used
to when
the metal had
a shine on it
and the tires
weren't so bald.
there's a small
crack
in the windshield
that is
growing with
each day.
the seats are
torn, the orange
padding
poking out
with springs.
every turn of the
earth seems to add
to the diminishing
value
of what you once
loved
and cruised in,
speeding down
fifty to the eastern
shore, as
if that was
mecca itself.