Tre Tre Fabulous

Underground Poetry
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2003-02-15 16:30:28 (UTC)

Away

You wait
You're poised
The engine runs silently
Your hands clutch the steering wheel
The sweat on your brow does not match the sweat on your
palms

The alarm sounds
Not good
You slowly lean over and unlock the doors
Then you return to the poised position
The feint sirens in the distance are deafening to you
The men get in the car

Go time
Shift to drive, press the gas
Midday traffic is a blur
Weaving in and out
Car after car
Maybe you should send apology cards to the drivers
All that is seen is a mixture of colors
All that is heard is the deafening sirens that no longer
exist
Is it worth it?
No.
Yes.
Maybe.
Cannot decide.

Mind racing faster than the car
As you swerve on to Elm St., you think of the great beyond
As you slide into Oak Rd., you think of your parents
As you ease into Maple Dr., you think of your wife
This has to stop
As you slam the brakes, you open the door and run
Never looking back
The best turn you have made all day


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