Crash (poem)

Crash (poem)

I watched an accident unfold
on a Wednesday afternoon:

It was spectacular, the way
two cars collided into cosmos
along the intersection
of Wilshire and Westwood,

Everyone heard the skid marks
scream blood on asphalt
as the tires blew out
and created a gash on the road,
stupefied “O” on mouths still turning,
turning slow:

One hood smoked ballet
into the sky as it danced between
air and sun; it spun pirouettes
grey like concrete
in the sizzling heat
during lunch break,

Pedestrians marveled
at the sight of
two cars embracing
head-lights on pavement:

Chalk it up to that blinking hand
across the street-walk
to let go,
and give itself to the ghost
walking slowly through traffic.

— The Finicky Cynic

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