Where care culture became car culture.
On Cuyahoga Falls’ State Road
there stands a tall, lone
Babylonian chimney
which never had a plant—
unless Angley’s vast Grace Church
counts—where once had been
a gargantuan buffet, beloved
until its staff walked out,
unpaid—save a promise
they’d be filled
in a world they'd enjoy—dead.
That venue now is closed.
But just downhill,
there’s a car wash—
one of many that crop up
like weeds of new devotion,
as if car cleanliness
were the Eleventh Commandment.
And this one doesn’t just bathe
your ride—it uses human hands
to rub, to caress their chassis,
as if drivers were those cars
and, being more than human,
now needed more than care:
TLC, yes—
but also XOXO.
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