dylan thomas

i was barely driver,
car no more above
fifteen miles an hour
acceleration
about to give up.
called my baby dylan,
his namesake
of origins unknown.
we tried our bests
with all the ghosts
living and dead.
screamed;
"bob dylan
dylan moran
dylan thomas
save our lives"
he jerked once,
and didn't stop.
then downhill
at forty miles an hour
we nearly crashed
knuckle-white on the wheel
that night
between the veil
i killed my friends.
unheard prayer,
dylan thomas heard me once.
in the car park
hours later
ritually sacrificed
dandelion and burdock
and a few squares of chocolate
to the ghost of dylan thomas.
so i could live
to die soaked in beer
to not give a f**k
either.