.
driving a winding back road
in wine country pre-dawn
pitch darkness, i hook a u-turn
back to view a discarded pair of
boxer shorts :
folded by landing. rolling, thrown from a moving
vehicle window, and
tempting flies onto the
middle yellow stripe of
bump reflectors glued to the pavement.
white horses stir their heads
at the squealing tires and spinning
turbo fan blades. radiator fins suck
cold air through the funnel exo-
skeletons of beetles' carcasses, hollowed
out. high pressure, pops, secretion-
strap a baby to a dyke and
watch a tidal wave crash.
.
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