Accident

Broken linoleum

Cast across the windswept

Concrete.

Four heart beats before I come to.

Ochre. Crimson asphalt. Distant

Braying of klaxons.

Old wine on his ragged jawline

             In sections, splattered soundly.

You are speaking to

A haze

A coliseum of dendrites

Seeking respite from the obloquy.

        Who's the president?

Fuck you, don't remind me.

Catch decade-old reruns in this Cottagecore bedroom.

I meet your fingertips with

An ocean of numb.

The phone, on hold for hours.

I-84 outside The Dalles

   Eastbound

Three trees after the right bend

Smell gasoline whenever I

Drive by.

jcb