Drive on

The cops are after you
The car is battered
And parts keep dropping off
But you drive on
In the end the car collapses
In a steaming heap of wreckage
The cops handcuff you
The game is over

But not until that moment
Until then you drive on

The old man would say to me
Jeremy, it is not worth to be old
He was both joking and serious
He was suffering from dementia
De Mentia
That’s Latin for out of mind
There was nothing left
The cops had got him years before

You may no longer be perfect
You may no longer be whole
But things can be good
Even if they are not perfect
You are not a steaming heap of wreckage
The cops haven’t got you
Drive on

On the day my mother died
My father said
To ask for more
Would be impertinent

But impertinent to whom?
Did he mean God?
Or the universe?
At the moment of his loss
He expressed gratitude

He took time to recover
Then he drove on
Until the car collapsed
In a heap of steaming wreckage
And the cops got him