flying down a summer road
not an hour, your clean prison-stamped face
claims its first victim: a locust
from a Mississippi field

a dozen scorching miles later,
two dancing bees, who flew a billion miles a bucket for nectar,
smudged your double Bs, simultaneously
as if they’d made a pact to end
their busy buzzing and serve
their thankless queen
no more

next, a majestic monarch
did not understand the speed of light
the power of seventy miles per hour
or the sharp edge of your plate
against an eternal bumper

it left a stain more yellow
than red, though I have no doubt it bled
mutely, while another butterfly fluttered
faraway, wings wild against a black
ignorantly blessed sky

BRB-603,
who you massacre  
we’ll wait to see

this road is weathered
but where one road ends, another starts
crossroads are measured
by the sign posts of wrong turn hearts

caution lights
the stop signs
bridge out
bumps ahead
highways divided
it's gridlock

another dead end street
and there's no u-turns

that street was better
until it came time for us to merge
a do not enter
detours where two hearts converge