Yes, the road.

Yes, the road.
Eagle Nest, New Mexico. “People like to drive because driving is actually and symbolically an almost perfect mechanism for escape…there is probably no human being who does not have troubles, real or imagined, from which he at times feels the need to flee.” George R. Stewart.


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Brooklin, Maine, United States
We own a 1975 GMC Sierra Grande 15 in Maine and a 1986 Chevrolet Custom Deluxe 10 in West Texas. Also a pair of 1997 Volvo 850 wagons. Average age in the fleet is 28 years--we're recycling. I've published 3 novels: THE LAW OF DREAMS (2006), THE O'BRIENS (2012), and CARRY ME (2016). Also 2 short story collections: NIGHT DRIVING(1987) and TRAVELLING LIGHT (2013). More of my literary life is at I was a Fellow at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study for 2012-13. I'm an adjunct professor at Colorado College and in the MFA program at Queens University of Charlotte. In 2015-16 I was a Fellow at Harvard University's Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. The Autoliterate office is in Car Talk Plaza in Harvard Square, 2 floors above Dewey Cheatem & Howe. SUBSCRIBE TO THE AUTOLITERATE DAILY EMAIL by hitting the button to the right.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Rambler, the Sommelier and You

A poem from Bruce Willard, referencing Rambler's legendary folding front seat.

The Rambler, the Sommelier and You

This is where we parked in the rain.
This is where we turned
off the Rambler’s vacuum wipers
and slotted open the windows
                         to hear the insects of summer.
This is where we folded down the seats
to hear the storm of adolescence.
Afterwards, the Rambler’s roof was a sky of stars -                                                                                                                          
enough for both of us
although I knew nothing of  yours,
or you of mine.
I did not know your favorite color or smell.
But I was a sommelier
                        just out of school with a new key
                        and a stash of Mateus, Catawba and Apple Wine
                        and you were taken by the list
of choices, tasting each
with non-committal patience
                         and I fumbled with the hardware of my youth.

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