D. Samson, 36, (BAC, .19) Enters on the Exit Ramp
by Nathaniel Lanman

by the by, the hush
of I-287 wafts up the hills
in Utopiaville, &
mama drives against the grain,
makes her wanton Dodge
hump the divider, dance
like a heathen, give the smooth nose
of an suv a child’s timid
kiss goodnight.

a whimper of tire, &
the hood puckers to a smoulderbit, the axel
is an angle & mama’s white-knuckled wheelhand
couldn’t shield her babies’ gazes in the backseat,
eyes smoking and seething, glazed pecans
steaming on the sill.

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