The pumping goodyears, the popcorn airbags
And the lightning speedometers
And a knowledge that there are
Crash Test Dummies in a Tokyo Warehouse
Squashed and rammed with a similar model.
You know Japanese technology
Is how you vroom the mapless terrain
Of an island, searching for serendipity.
We drive with condensed water leaking
From the AC, a car jack shouting “hit the road Jack”
And wind in my pipe – and my hair –
Making whiplash out of my worries
Cruise is how you flyaway
Lifting off from the nagging brutal reality
Forgetting the traction of life on time
Mocking the fierce wind
With ground speed.