poem
Volume 25, Number 4

The New Navigator

Our moods do not believe in each other.
—Emerson

The car’s computer keeps on
switching tracks, insistent
insistent, one moment
I want to learn
the next, relax, sit back
listen to building music.
It never plays
anything heavy or fast
or lets me lend a hand—
not since the speeding incident
two Thanksgivings ago.
If only we had options
to override like the good old days
when everything went wrong all the time.


—Mark Danowsky