on the gas gauge, the red
arrow
lying
flat on
the letter E.
but it was before
the orange
light went on
warning us
that the car will die soon.
it was before seat belts,
and buzzers,
the car
telling you robotically
what's wrong.
we rolled the windows
down by hand.
it was
in the days of a radio,
am and fm,
with an
antennae
wobbling on the hood of the car.
we
gambled on the gas gauge.
living by
the seat of four pants.
eventually
pushing the Impala
it to an Esso Station
not far from home.
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