|
|
Two Poems by John Nettles 1. Smoky Mountain Setback Driving blind-curve Carolina pass fast too fast, you know, and reckless but darkness cuts travel time and you need speed, coffee plucks your nervestrings, sings in your eyes, you couldn't go slow if you tried, full moon at your back jacks you up like bad memory driving Broken glass diamonds on the road in overloading headlight glare flare into sudden screaming ganglia twitch switch into reflex jerk on the wheel realtime stretches and snaps back smack across the eyes and you see three bodies split and broken Smoke from wreck of pickup overturned burned collapsed, roof crushed, one slow tire on fire, spinning stench of charred rubber out doubtless bodies were passengers in the bed, dead on the road, but where's the driver? survivor you hope, without looking at flattened cab grab nose close eyes to blood brains and smoke Clutch your gut stumble to the guardrail frail barrier between road and falling gorge gorge rising, shooting in burning-truck glow so helpless, aware of a space between seconds that reckons three (four) die and you live give them one last tick of your time climb into car quietly thrumming, pop the clutch There but for the grace, three-point turn, tableau glow recedes, full moon reclaims its place, trembling foot hard on the petal, resume driving. 2. Peter Boyle is Dead and Browsing One night at the bookstore, Peter Boyle the actor came in, minding his own business, browsing, no fuss or fanfare, just shopping, when one of the blue vested employees recognized him, walked up hesitantly, said, "Aren't you Peter Boyle, the actor?" The actor nodded and the blue vest gaped, "I thought you were dead." The vest had just read in a movie magazine that Peter Boyle the actor had died. He showed Boyle his death notice, and the actor laughed and bought ten copies. To go browsing for books and find out you're not dead. Now that's customer service.
|
|
|
