on some nights —

driving
too fast and pressed
against a hard curl
in the road, one shoulder
rising, the other falling off,
eye-fused to the guardrail,
numb-stomached and knuckled,
I lose myself in the rope
of friction vs. momentum.

and too, I loose myself
from the strap that urges
me to plunge more
swiftly into the city below
like the breathless stoop
of a snub-nosed falcon
heaped upon its prey.

such auspices, conceived
in the fury of flight, beg —
whether to become the bird or
a flaccid road clutched
by slow descent.

Image: Taneli Lahtinen on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: