The Drive-In

Many, many Moons ago, they pulled me from the wreckage of a plane,
and I believed, in that moment,
that I was not worthy of seconds

Then they told me this was all for the taking,
and I believed them,
and when he died I believed them to be cruel, nearsighted, and ill prepared

And on a Summer night, I chose to ride the meridian of it all,
to vacillate on this side and that side of the equator

But in New England,
in the dark uncharted waters of Chappaquidick,
I could tell I had made a mistake even before I had made it

You told me they were concocting some kind of pill to make us forget pain!
But then you laughed---

They'll never call me White
or anything else for that matter,

And I will forever be chained to the confines of my name,
to its unparalleled magnetism for pain,
to both its prompting and its prohibition of commiseration

I will be no one's kindred spirit,
but mainly because I would not wish that on anyone,

even and especially someone I offer to drive---