FROM, ELIAS

if shit got this bad.  That pale blue dot in your
eyes orbiting a web of napalm. Hold my hand,
Icarus, inhale my sublimate. 
                                               I was never very good
at physics but I don’t think you can land this ship
without killing yourself

So auto-trepenate — I know you know how —
branding fractals of tire tread into your scalp.
Let me in your car again
                                       for the first time, crash
that tin can under cold Wynola stars, melt us
into a slush of midnight sand.

Resigned to your brain,
                       on fire, the center of everything:
The only home we’ve ever known.