Hurtling down the I-5 corridor,
we plunged through the wispy poltergeists
of two dead elks still standing stupefied
in the middle of the road
like statues carved from solid blocks of fog.
We dragged them behind us,
vaporous corpses that flapped like rags
from the rear fender
as we sped south through
the bristling Oregon woods.
When we finally found a parking spot
after circling the block for half an hour,
we were so exhausted that we forgot
to untangle the ethereal beasts.
Leaving the apartment the next morning,
we found them
shriveled to snakeskin beside the curb,
powder to the touch.
We gingerly lifted them up,
wrapped them around our necks like ashy stoles
and sashayed along the catwalk of dried grass,
powder to the touch.
We gingerly lifted them up,
wrapped them around our necks like ashy stoles
and sashayed along the catwalk of dried grass,
two more spirits torched
by the California sun.
This is a damn fine piece of writing! I might re-think the first two lines, with hurtled & plunged back to back, but it works great as a whole. Very good shit.
ReplyDeleteLike the way you fixed that
ReplyDelete