Parked under chopped trees
at the heart of city are cars
empty and alone in rows
like a dead army of mettle
in hands parking them to perfection
with wild gestures
elbows and mad heads scampering
for space, and suddenly you say
“ No! do not stop near this iron-filled space”
there is a virus in your tongue
as if saving me from an invasion
driving through boulevards and malls
for love of coffee and gibberish tones
when one can afford a silent stare,
a sparrow waiting for sunset and
a broken wire smashing the wall,
but again you say “ Watch out the road
they go out of eyes like promises ”
a talismanic creak from the rear
animate dented roof
a lustful calm holds
the handle on door
amidst a herd of solid mass
hinging huffing
and whenever alone
at night
without screeching tires.