I'm on Fire in Garson, 1999

Tender are my boys, just boys
cradled in steel, plush, vinyl and denim,
the dash lights cooling their faces.
Smoke on their breath and in their clothes,
ageless and aged,
existing in memory, moment and future.

The radio dial demodulates current
to detect a Fire for
my tender boys, just boys.
In a 3-speed automatic Cutlass under defuse-lit sky,
not born in America but
59 ways from Winnipeg
and Springsteen
guiding us home.