Cadillac

Cadillac 

Weather beaten 

window dressing,

taking two steps 

when one will do,

every time.

Bearing down

on things peculiar,

like the air trapped

by the pill bottle

hidden inside my purse.

I don’t know why

I think about it,

but I do.

Keeps my mind off 

the other things

I guess.

Things like money.

Things like sex.

Things like that 

deep dull thud 

of a secret,

I tossed to the ground.

You know;

the one about me.

And about me.

I have tires to burn.