Tuesday, May 25, 2010



I crept like a crippled centipede
along the single clogged lane
we morning commuters had been herded
into by two white state patrol cars,
their light bars throbbing with
oscillating colors, saturating the
wolf-hour with blood-red, tingling
orange, and constabulary blue, as we
had to inch along sniffing each other's
bumpers like big dogs in the park,
until we could see the accident--a
black pick up truck lying on
its back, looking like a Martian
beetle, its fat radials spinning
a sad song to an indifferent
sky, and a beer can Prius on
its green side with its top
smashed in, crushed like an
eggshell--two bodies covered
in fireman's blankets, a tall
woman weeping, being held up
by a patrolman, with a fire
truck as sentinel, lit up
with lights like a yuletide
yard bush, an aid car, two
ambulances--cops, paramedics,
and firemen rushing about,
waving their arms frantically,
pumping the air, yelling
unintelligible orders and
epithets--soon just twitching
blinking shadows in my rear
view mirror.

A young man, probably in his
late teens, who helped me unload
my old TV at the Goodwill
electronics recycling center;
tall, reed-thin, black Lady Gaga
tee-shirt, slender bony arms
poking out of flapping short
sleeves, an open vest--some gray-
striped banker's attire picked
up from one of their clothing
bins, with very tight black
levis, slung low showing half of
his checkered boxer shorts,
like he was wearing his little
sister's Capri pants, barely
held up with a thick black
leather belt studded with silver
conchos; five silver studs in
his left ear, a gold lip ring,
a golden safety pin piercing
his right eyebrow, sporting a
round tongue ring that flashed
at me as he puffed to lift the
television; long hair on his left
side with a purple dyed lock
dangling over one eye, and close-
cropped military cut on the
other side--probably a good kid,
drug-free, smart, sensitive;
but you know I couldn't help
being pissed off just looking
at him--another victory for
youthful ire.

A Latin beauty emerging from her
black Jaguar, movie star sun
glasses hiding her eyes, hair
long, raven-black and wavy;
creamy brown skin glowing with
health, wearing a puffy-sleeved
peasant blouse that had a low-
cut scoop neck, exhibiting large
breasts pushed up in some DD
Victorian secret black bra,
showing at one shoulder and near
the dangerous plunge of her cleavage,
bare midriff--abbs taunt and sensual,
hip-hugging designer jeans, one ankle
adorned with a slender gold chain,
3-inch red heels with
overlapping spaghetti straps.
I smiled at her as I loaded
my groceries. She rushed by me
like I wasn't there.

Glenn Buttkus May 2010

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