Road Run Near

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Sometimes you see them;

iridescent green-red eyes shining

boldly, hesitantly, into floodlights of mechanized progression;

Then that damnably necessary sprint for the simple

insurmountable pleasure at the opposite side of the road.

Other times our

irrelevant beams subdue sodden

blackness, sometimes missing, now a languid squeal, or, perhaps, no more than

a ‘whump!’ down under, leather epicure filtering out flash-scrunch of tiny

bones and plobt-squish of micro organs; and Lincoln Towncars with smooth

custom features curtailing shrill wails to whimpering sighs.

I glimpse a slow

moving thing upon a perilous

portion of the street; obtuse, succulently juicy and unaware,

no match for my oversized Sure-Hugger, a hybrid of finest Burmese

rubber and Yankee know-how; snared between the tire and a road top.