Quickly, headlamps
Blur the rush,
Those headrush
Cues that
Blow the eyes
From car to
Truck like
Lint in breezy
Better days.
Cornered in a
Small precinct,
Perceived enough
But not too long –
The flash goes
On, “you could
Have hit, they’re
Dumb ass kids,”
And nothing moves
Your rearview
Sight of one small
Bodies flight,
Flipped like a
Breakfast ‘cake.
The sight plays
Over, over and
Yet you see the
Crowd gather,
No help for
The one who
Might have run
In front of

rjw, 11/23/96

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