Cheap Thrills
[poetry]
The doctor,
the entrepreneur,
the engineer,
and the ghost
sit in a rented red Fiat
endlessly driving
from Nice
to the winding bends
of the Alps.
Cheap Thrills
from cheap speakers
echoes in the crisp mountain air,
but our ears register only
the sound of youthful invincibility
and infinite potential.
Every year
I find myself pulled back
into that tiny car in my memory
and I think,
It must have been a hot summer,
because the snow melted
and formed this tear in my eye.
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