Hotrod Beatdown, Redline Fairytale

Fingers tense into claws until each knuckle cracks on the wheel.

Every clenched muscle in my jaw
letting off that smell of burning wires.

My veins
screaming pipelines with no time to wait

Every word pushes down the clutch
A five-three downshift that'll
tear out the transmission
leave the clutch plate in pieces behind swollen tires
gears grinding together, grinning and spitting out teeth.
Just give me enough to win this
Enough torque to haul these two dented fenders
a little bit further.

There's a straight six orchestra of tortured steel
pounding out a rhythm behind my eyes
one-three-five
two-four-six

Optic nerves hooked up to the camshaft
my pupils bobbing up and down
Four cycles to every heartbeat
intakecompressionignitionexhaust
all the valves want to stick
open in every cylinder.
My arms are pistons,
my blood is synthetic.

A little further.

One boost, that's all I need
fifty frozen horses churning sudden in my guts
icing sweat on the grille
no mercy for an already stuttering beast
blow it through the hood,
shake it to pieces
snap bolts, twist up the chassis
throw rods like javelins
fuse,
    melt down,
         die.

Almost home, motherfucker.