Goodbye my poor dead friend
I'm gonna close my eyes,
you keep driving
There's a sad face of road-kill approaching,
a singular death
squashed on the pavement
I don't want to think about it,
you drive and I'll
close my eyes until we're
far ahead of the poor dead one,
a baby fox, a starved raccoon, a feral cat
close my eyes . . .
but as it becomes
effeminate
I endure the nightmarish scene,
because a man must take big gulps of
fear and sort through his regrets
How does this sound? I'll open my eyes after I sense we've gotten
around my anguished, mangled beloved---
you are my best friend dead fox-raccoon-cat
I hope we've passed the poor road-kill
I don't want to think about it anymore
This is the road of tragedy,
let's get off it
and hide in a basement