And Then


"...'s my birthday,"
His blurry mind thought
As the car sped down the long dark stretch of highway.
The moon ran alongside it,
Looking almost close enough to touch.
He giggled to himself,
Thinking of putting the moon in his pocket,
Bringing it home and throwing it on the table
In front of his girlfriend.
"There ya go! Just like I promised!"
Boy, would she--

WHUMP!

He never saw the truck.

Time went away for a while...

Then came back,
Red and yellow fangs of pain biting into him
The prehistoric scream of metal being untwisted
And the floodlights of the news cameras
Making sparkles of the blue and white lights of the cruiser.

As the red river of his life
Flowed into the burnt grass,
He glimpsed the moon again,
And heard the hiss of a giant radiator.
He giggled to himself,
"Hey, here's my 15 minutes of fame!"

And then--

I wrote this poem after watching possibly drunk drivers zooming down the highway to the beach... it made me wonder what people thought about as they sped their way to fatal accidents.