Modern Life: Part II.

she glances at her watch without knowing she has one hour to live
he stares off into the distance claiming he has no time

to give her while she stares out the window watching palm trees
at dusk wave in wind like dancing scare-crowed silhouettes

says to no one how damn pathetic am I wondering
what happiness looks like in the eye of a beholder

sitting at a red light with a turn signal tapping out a steady beat

and the tiny woman is inching her way forward behind the big wheel
of an old white cadillac

he says, fuck, if I know
you are so fucking miserable you wouldn't know

happiness if it hit you upside your face so go
and she says fine watch me going out the door

she won't let herself cry
till she's out past the slam of it, safe behind the wheel

alone in her car and stepping hard
on the gas to pass everyone, and run away before

the tiny woman with the silver curls and saucer eyes
studies the timing of the light, tentatively

yellow, inching her way into the middle
of this last hour, slowly pushing down

on the pedal as the yellow becomes red
and the girl with the tears sees red, sees her anger

cover her vision till there is
nothing to it but a wall of water

her tears, her pedal down
hard like her fists on the wheel

and the sound of the impact will never leave her
the thud, the scrape, the powdery fall of metal
through the night air

like the exhalation
the aftermath
the smoke of the gun
the silver curls against a wondow.

ksaint