Frag 4

Frag 4 (2003)

Don’t crash I said and the whole time
the car coughs, shudders, sputters as
rain slaps the windshield in restless sheets.
As the headlights flare over trees
grotesque branches reach just past us
accusing, like we’d smuggled contraband

then nothing, the darkness of the bypass
but for some distant airport runway lights.
I can’t find my way home you said.
Drops glide like mercury over our side windows.
Above our heads, twin jet engines grumble
but we’re grounded -- a canceled flight.

~/~

Here's another post from a series I started and abandoned. I earlier described posting part of this failed experiment as an exercise in rubbernecking -- gawking at a drive-by art wreck.

So, why I am sharing more of it? I don't really know. Maybe because such expressions need to leak out sometime, somewhere. Sorry you had to be in the vicinity.