"What's the world for you if you can't make it up the way you want."

-Jazz, Toni Morrison


Petrolhead

Petrolhead

Speed is the closest you can get to God without dying.
Wide eyed, head-to-the-back-of-your-seat, speed.
An oily oasis. The heart of a storm,
the sound of a choir in an empty cathedral.

Wide eyed, head-to-the-back-of-your-seat, speed.
Exhausts howl in insomniac tunnels, like
the sound of a choir in an empty cathedral,
with hymns echoing from pillars and arches.

Exhausts howl in insomniac tunnels, like
the choir in their empty cathedral,
with hymns echoing from pillars and arches.
Is it a coincidence that pews are arranged like cylinder blocks?

the choir in their empty cathedral,
An oily oasis. The heart of a storm,
is it a coincidence that pews are arranged like cylinder blocks?
Speed is the closest you can get to God without dying.


Alexander Walsh started writing poetry in 2018. His work has been published in the literary magazine Royal Rose and is also forthcoming with Drunk Monkeys. He lives in Yorkshire, UK with his wife and two dogs. Twitter: @amwpoet

Cover photo by Matthew Schwartz on Unsplash

SONNY'S BAGELS

SONNY'S BAGELS

Lines

Lines