REALITY?: Spin Cycle

Driving, chewing gum, curving up the road at double speed.  Only just because that is the kind of day it is; stand-still-summer-sweat.  So move and move and roll around the land a bit to try it out.  Taste it and recall past lives filtered through the music drifting like a cape behind the car.  Spin around past fifty when you wrote a book, forty when you found yourself and found yourself alone, thirty when discoveries were made and fondled much too long and then to twenty, ah, twenty and Dick C.  He looked a bit like Evil Dick on Big Brother, softer though, and rounded, and just a couple of tatoos.  Long hair, mustache and goatee as black as Evil’s and the devil’s sends shivers through my core as if a hot wind blew straight through the tunnel behind the train.  The echo of the voice the same and honest. Even now.  You wonder where he is, you wonder if he’s well. I wonder.