Chevrolet

The past is a glove compartment
In a run-down Chevrolet –
A place to bury broken trinkets
And take the occasional peek
At what we thought was treasure.
I’ll drive down this road with you,
But I can’t help but look back
At the flecks of gold paint
Wrapping around moonlight
Like your arm around my waist:
It’ll rust when the shine wears off.
Already you’re chipping, darling;
I can see all the dark implications
Leaking onto the steering wheel,
And I can’t follow you based on
Hopes slashed into silver tires.
The smell of frayed leather and
The cheap perfume of Hers before me
Makes me want to crystallize
Every damned thing in my head
And stuff my mouth with scrap metal.
But I’ll close my eyes, inhale deeply
And wait for us to become a memory.

Wow, nice. I think you captured this really well and done something that a lot of people seem to lack - bringing it to life and capturing deeper meaning. I really like this, I think you captured everything perfectly and overall, this was a really great poem.

Hey Penny!

I actually quite like this, which is pretty rare for me, normally I hate lost love poems, but you did a very good job with this one, so well done!

Like your arm around my waste:
It’ll rust when the shine wears off.
Already you’re chipping, darling;

Love this line, it really gives me a wonderful image, great metaphor.

And stuff my mouth with scrap metal.

I don't quite get this...maybe it's just me, but yeah not at all.

But I’ll close my eyes, inhale deeply
And wait for us to become a memory.

Nice closing line .

It wasn't too cheesy, and you did a good job tying your feeling in with the truck. It wasn't overly sappy, ad I liked it.

Good job!

~Hope

I really liked this, and I have little to nitpick. You had an excellent theme and, for the most part, wrote a decent poem to frame it.

"Like your arm around my waste"– waste in this context is usually spelled waist. Or did you mean to imply an extended metaphor for the decay of the relationship? Just curious.

Overall, well done. You had some nice phrases, a good, industrial feel, and an interesting final line.

–antimelrose

Oh, wow!

Can't believe I only just came across this. And this is one of the rare few poems I feel like I have nothing to say about except praise - which you'll find utterly useless in terms of improvement. I wouldn't change a thing.

But yeah, me being me, I think I'll try to pinpoint what exactly I did like about this poem - there was a definite edge to this, a powerful feeling as we 'drove' through the poem, and a remarkable nugget of intellect creeping in there as well. The three criteria of poetry were met in good balance with one another, which is what made it work so well.

The past is a glove compartment

I loved this line. You state it so casually, so off the cuff, as if you don't really care what we think - but you do, of course you do . It's intimate and detached all in one - no pretentiousness, no pompousness but not dull, either. A sweet little metaphor.

At the flecks of gold paint
Wrapping around moonlight

This was possibly my favourite set of lines here. It's weird - but 'flecks' implies something small, which I'd find hard to imagine 'wrapping around moonlight' - it's like saying the table was 'wrapped' in 'smidgens' of dust, but in this case, the vague contradiction works - only just. It's sort of like...had you changed anything else, the image would fall off totally and be te weakest one, but there is something so fragile, so delicate about the gold flecks of paint around the moonlight, which you extrapolate out to the relationship.

I can see all the dark implications
Leaking onto the steering wheel,
And I can’t follow you based on
Hopes slashed into silver tires.

'Dark implications' was not subtle enough for me, but the enxt line was brilliant. And I liked the 'hope slashed into silver tyres' part for its deceptive simplicity.

Makes me want to crystallize
Every damned thing in my head
And stuff my mouth with scrap metal.
But I’ll close my eyes, inhale deeply

I'll admit, I possibly didn't enjoy this part as much - it became less intimate, more clinical at this point, but the powerful sensation of scent was amazing; it had the biggest impact throughout the whole poem.

Like the others, I thought the car-oriented imagery was skillfully slipped in - not too obvious and glaring, but not so abstract and vague that I missed it altogether.

A wonderful read - thank you. If you write more, I want to read it. PM me when you do.

Hey Pen!

First of all, was this intentional? "Like your arm around my waste." Because I think "waist" would be more appropriate here, but I'm not sure if you're trying to say something else.

Now! For the poem, I really really like the car imagery. But I would totally go for more imagery... not only about the car but about driving. And I would really like to see what specifically is in the glovebox. That way, we'll get a better idea of what you're saying. Trinkets just ain't doing it for me.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone. ^^

And YES, I always get waste/waist confused. It was meant to be waist. Thanks.