Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Thumbing a Ride
As soon as I climb into the car
I fold my dark poncho
and close my azure blue eyes against it
and the locked door.
She speaks a few guarded words,
the air from the vent ruffling
her skirt an inch above her knees.
With my left hand I slide out
the knife, unfold it under my arm
and wait for her to grow silent.
You are in horror.
So you wish to understand?
Take the page this is written on,
hold it up, the edge dry
and tight, slide it quickly across your tongue
and taste between your lips
the road unfolding
from my dreams.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment