Ara HawkinsCity Through a Windshield
It's a summer night. I'm driving, listening to Burning Down the House, smoking the beginning of my last cigarette. The
smell of cow shit fades into wet manhole covers as I push myself into the city. I'm alone, no destination, jacked up on
white crosses and two days without sleep. I'm burned by street lights, hotels, neon signs blinking...."Come fuck someone
here." And I daydream about who I would. I stop for smokes at a gas station and grab a bottle of coconut Yoo-hoo. It's
so good that I stop for another bottle an hour later. I watch people from my car. For two seconds, I think about picking
up this guy in a black leather jacket but I would need to get to know him first and he wouldn't. So, fuck it. I pull my car
over at some point and do it for myself. Maybe this is where it all started. I drive home.