In the car of Icarus

The dashboard gleams,

Dials eyes of monsters in the dusk.

Tired Papa D said not to stray too far –

But with a huff and a slam his baby boy absconded.

The stormwind howls, Route 90 ice-slick.

But Icarus laughs low, revs once, twice, again,

His daddy’s Corolla alone for miles.

Don’t you start that up again, said D,

I won’t have you eye-rollin’ at every word I say.

I put food on this table and I won’t have you a-gettin’ burdensome.

Bird-in-somma yourself, struck Icarus,

You’re a-gettin’ a little kookoo.

Fly away then! Get your ungrateful ass outta my house!

Maybe I a-will, said the son,

The father’s after-warning lost in the wind.

The bridge across the Mississippi looms

But tires slide upon the icy crossing –

The boy brakes, wheels skid,

The Corolla spins out and smashes through the guardrail –

Where comes the flight there is always the fall.

The plummet through night petrifies as the churn approaches –

The boy screams for the father as rough water encloses.