Tipton Poetry Journal
To the Bottle in the Front Seat Jim Knapp I woke, not to the sound of a truck wrapping its rusty bumper around a maple tree or a radiator exploding into the stillness of an October night or to sirens and machines that bend metal in search of a heartbeat or even to firemen talking about pictures on the dash of his bride and children. I woke, not to the smell of burning oil and gasoline and steam that mixed with fog to surround the truck with dense vapor or the exhaust from firetrucks and ambulances blocking the road, waiting for a pulse. I woke, not to the sight of blue and red lights pulsing into the night sky or of blood, bright as neon announcing some attraction or the sight of fused metal surrounding my old tree like a wedding ring. I woke, not to the chill of an October mist or the feel of my own heartbeat racing into burning oil, steam, fog or the feel of a door handle hopelessly jammed into confusion. I woke, rather, to tiny shards of glass raining through the trees and onto the roof and driveway– clinking like a wedding toast in a crowded room, Tiny shards of happiness falling to the ground, And you, sitting there, the only glass unbroken.
Jim Knapp is an Adjunct Professor at Ivy Tech Community College in Indianapolis. He holds a B.S. and a Ph.D. in Engineering from the University of Iowa. Jim and his family have lived in Indiana for 30 years where he has worked in industry, owned a small business (musical instruments), and taught at Ivy Tech.
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