Death is a beautiful car parked only
to be stolen on a street lined with trees
whose branches are like the intestines
of an emerald.
You hotwire death, get in, and drive away
like a flag made from a thousand burning
funeral parlors.
You have stolen death because you’re bored.
There’s nothing good playing at the movies
in San Francisco.
You joyride around for a while listening
to the radio, and then abandon death, walk
away, and leave death for the police
to find.
Disclaimer: The curator of this poem-a-day list shall not be held liable for any carjackings or other illicit actions arising from the reading of this or any other (untitled) poem from Richard Brautigan’s The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster (1968).
Brautigan dedicates this poem “For Emmett” — Brautigan’s close friend had recently entered into a rehab facility, and one interpretation of this poem is that it is about leaving an addiction behind. There is a particular street lined with trees out at Pt. Reyes (one of my favorite places on earth, and where Emmett’s rehab facility was located) that I always picture when I picture “the intestines of an emerald” — that facility is gone, but the trees are still there:
“Death is a beautiful car parked only” by Richard Brautigan was also featured for Poem-a-Day April 11, 2007.