by Diane Webster
She drives a big 4-wheel drive pickup
so tall she slides out
like milk from the carton
and jumps in
like a child into a parent’s arms.
She’s like a toy driver eventually lost
while the remote control controller
spins, races and jumps
the whirring wheels easily tangled
in long hair girl squeals of pulling pain
except for the baseball cap bobbing
behind the steering wheel
shadow-like in the big 4-wheel drive’s
interior darkened depths
until the door opens and the robot’s
human brain leaks out like a drop of oil
on the paved parking lot.
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