it’s dark and smoky in the back
of the old Lincoln; smells of old leather
and cheap perfume, nostalgia for the old
days sweep over me like the steady progression
of clouds wheeling around the planet.
And there she is beside me, showing me
more thigh than I can possibly handle;
an immense superstructure peeps
from the straining buttons, and I see
with the clarity of hindsight how this present
future follows the paths of the past.