Jan 28, 2009 21:10
begin in the grasp of squidlike darkness
Big Car, too fast, holds tight to intestinal roadways
headlights are surgeons of light
leaving glowing incisions in the dark road-
deer leaps, tires scream:
too late, animal becomes one with steel
leaves face imprinted in hood like a miracle
fast stop, backseat kids not in seatbelt
fly towards front, heads hit seatbacks
we cry, we children cry
Big Men get out of Big Car
watch brown heap twitch
and soft fur leak strawberry jelly
Big Men call flashing lights
sirens scream too, loud noise
gun cracks like ice when thick and brittle
and animal meets metal once more
we cry, we children cry
Big Men talk big talk
drag brown heap to roadside
asphalt holds fast to soft fur and strawberry jelly
like God’s brushstroke across the glowing road
Big Men get in Big Car, turn key
fasten seatbelts, watch children fasten seatbelts
and we move again, slowly
and we forget, we children forget
in the grip of squidlike darkness
that there were tears, too
we children forget
until the day we remember