A semester of lectures and movies showing
corpses being pulled from shattered remains
of cars. 3 Saturdays behind the wheel,
the instructor explaining the finer points
of right-hand turns, stopping distances,
and lane dividers (“dummy bumpers”).
My father wincing as I crunch the gears
of his neon green X19. My mother shrieking
as I do the same in our orange VW bus.
(Manual transmissions are hard!) Then
finally, my 16th birthday at the DMV–all
nerves & sweat while the humorless assessor
takes notes in the passenger seat–
and the much-awaited license.
[scs_alt]
PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
