Saturday, April 23, 2016

April 23

1 comment:

  1. I see a tall man about a
    quarter mile ahead
    on the freeway divide.
    I look for his stalled car
    But he seems homeless now
    As I think, “Will he
    dodge L.A. traffic
    to get to the other side?”
    his beanie hopscotches lanes.
    An eighteen wheeler slow rolls him.
    Traffic careens around.
    Tires scream but I drive steady
    until I whizz past a fetal form,
    back is curled, relaxed and dead.
    The trucker pulls over staring
    through the windshield like his life
    is smashed before checking
    the corpse on the road,
    his early morning roadkill.