I
kept saying “I’m just glad no one got hurt,” last night when
I crushed a car driving a semi.
Just about to sleep
on the road by the sugar factory in my hometown
when I heard a horn honking and people yelling at me.
Before I heard aluminum bend at once.
I recounted it to spectators after the fact--
IN MY DREAM--
it was this
yelling, this
honking
inDICTED the victims in my
mind.
That road was endlessly wide.
Their car could have moved enough to miss me; they wanted to
get hit.
For the insurance, maybe.
Who knows?
IN MY DREAM
people get right out of smashed cars.
Below your driver’s side door giving silent, dis-
approving glances within seconds of your palm-
shielded face;
After it had started to get dark
I remember how my dad had
our truck down filling up
on the corner with
scraps of steaming
food.
I noticed potatoes
cut into halves and
fourths piling in and flowing through the broken
tailgate. I knew
where that truck was going:
back to the country.
Where I was told to park my truck and RUN. in-
stead of
crash into the city. Then I saw the insurance adjuster, ask-
ing him,
“hey,
how much will it cost.”
“Some
number that doesn’t surprise me.”
I walked to the corner, past a car
dealership which doubled as a
firework
stand
in the summer
when I was young
and still does.