Jake's Flea Market

on the horizon the mountain

it doesn’t entertain   distract
from the steam that creeps
up from around the edges of the hood and climbs
up the outside of the windshield

nowhere do you read
that you should get out of the van and walk
away   abandon the childish father who drove
the van into this condition

that you should abandon
the mixture of embarrassment and words that gurgle
in the driver’s seat   boil
until the cap can’t hold
the rising spray of curses that erupt   curse
the van   the mechanic   general motors

nor do you read
anywhere that you should stay
leave the radiator cap that keeps
the mixture of your contempt and your words screwed
tightly on in the passenger seat

that you shouldn’t interrupt
the father who sits empty and dry eyes raised
reading up the mountain for what to do
while the steering wheel he turns   turns
nothing in any direction