We came to the car shop today.
My youngest says the car is sick.
The windows are stuck, won’t obey
The touch of my finger tips.
So here I am passing the time,
Listening to ESPN.
The announcers forecast the outcome
Of the game like weathermen.
They’re just as certain who will win
As if they were reading radar.
Tomorrow, they’ll forget again
How wrong they were and often are.
Choosing words, like picking a team,
Is an assumptive business.
Here, in the shop, stuck between
Need and dreams makes me second-guess.