Aug 2017
the poem stops for nobody like a speeding heart
or the screeching car. i saw one
crash and it was too dark too quiet too loud too much glass all over the pavement and i thought, first, of who would pay for that old fence to be replaced . i worried about the pennies and pounds once the smoke cleared and a man stumbled out, angry / ashamed / scarlet-cheeked, scarleteen, no blood . he got loud and i had a camera and did not hesitate to hide it from sight / anti-spectator syndrome. it was too dark too loud too quiet and i am not a mood-breaker, smelling smoke
as it turns and twists, over and over, acrid and dark
against the night.
or the screeching car. i saw one
crash and it was too dark too quiet too loud too much glass all over the pavement and i thought, first, of who would pay for that old fence to be replaced . i worried about the pennies and pounds once the smoke cleared and a man stumbled out, angry / ashamed / scarlet-cheeked, scarleteen, no blood . he got loud and i had a camera and did not hesitate to hide it from sight / anti-spectator syndrome. it was too dark too loud too quiet and i am not a mood-breaker, smelling smoke
as it turns and twists, over and over, acrid and dark
against the night.
I didn't actually see the car crash. I heard it, from up the street and smelled the smoke. My heart beat hard, I hoped nobody was dead and my mother told me to take this opportunity because that's what photographers do. I know it happens fast, like a bone snapping; I've been in almost-crashes, and there's no time to breathe. You hold it, hold your panic, hold on tight and when it's over - it's over.
insp: the 'crush' anthology, by Richard Siken
twt: personal - @corpsehearts + other - @softgum_
tumblr: @softgum
instagram: @raggedhearts
insp: the 'crush' anthology, by Richard Siken
twt: personal - @corpsehearts + other - @softgum_
tumblr: @softgum
instagram: @raggedhearts
