#car-crash
wedded that day, on their way
to El Paso, for two nights in a grand motel
with TV, and AC
they would splurge,
for profligacy was not a sin at such times
and a fat steer was sacrificed for it
the radio filled the cab
of the pickup with Tammy "Why-not"
singing D-I-V-O-R-C-E
they sang along, changing the letters
to M-A-R-R-I-E-D, creating one cheerful
cacophony in their shared space
when the next tune started, he hit:
a greasy buzzard, wingspan wide as a fence post was tall
black as an oil slick
the old windshield was no match
for the vulture, and it was a vengeful one
that crashed through Ronny's side
glass, bone, feather and flesh
tore into his sweet face like a chainsaw
his blood blinding him
Ronny turned so hard on that wheel
the truck rolled, twice, landing them on
the passenger side in an arroyo
where he lay on top of her,
gasping, his blood dripping generously on her
"Ronny, Ronny..."
her legs were numb, and she felt a warm
liquid crawling down her back, one she knew
was from her own head
which smacked the roof
so hard she was surprised her skull
hadn't popped
or maybe it had, for she saw double:
two steering wheels; two setting suns; two mangled birds
and two crimson faced Ronny's
who then had stopped gasping, and only
slow breaths came from him, like a warm whisper
on her cheeks--but only until the song ended
and she knew, he was gone--and old verse
came to her, from Psalms, from Matthew, and she knew,
she was sure, someone would find them
and make her whole, and resurrect Ronny
for the good Lord would not do this to them, on this
hopeful highway, before they consummated
she harbored such a notion until
her own eyes closed, and other dark birds came
to find them, still, under her God's closed eye
(1968, north of Marfa, Texas)
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
it is hell
to have loved someone-
to know you love them
right now, still-
so much and for so long,
and to realize
you don't actually feel
them loving you back.
if you turn onto
a one-way street
in the wrong direction,
it is still dangerous,
against the law
even if you didn't see the sign.
and just because i love
and my love is accepted
does not mean
i'm on a two-way street.
now i'm crushed.
between metal and metal
i'm crushed. in flashes,
when you speak, i see
myself chewed between your teeth.
so when you light up when you smile
when i say in some way that
i love you, you are also
the oncoming headlights,
appearing suddenly,
coming at me on the highway.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC