When I wait for her to do a spot of shopping
I wait in the car.
When she’s getting ready to go out,
I wait in the driveway, the sun
like a lamp. with my stash of magazines
between the seats:
my New Yorkers, National Geographics
and that lady in the glove box,
Olive Kitteridge.
It is my loo, my library, my study,
My five-seated reading room,
My Chapman’s Homer.
My car really takes me places.