entry picture

oil swirling 

dancing and in hand

with dirty water

ripple down the street


a screeching tire

splashing and skids

on the empty, black road

disturbing dance


the engine pumped faster, the gray sky smiled in turn

the tire hopped a curb, then flew from the ground


the tire clashed with the earth

mud splattered the clean paint

the car rushes to gain an inch

the engine refuses to lose


leaves rustle past the windows

branches claw the sides

the shades of greens and browns

swirl into an intensity of nothingness


the rain beats on the hood

the car slams into a tree

the tree groans and pushes back

the engine dies


the man inside is silenced 

a red stream flows from his forehead 
dripping down to form a pool at his feet

the trees lean closer to stare

 (written Nov 28, 2005) 


Lips ►


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Michael Lankford

Mon 4th May 2015 12:19

Thanks for your comments Colin!
I really just couldn't come up with a title and so felt there was no point in forcing one.
The last stanza is definitely me telling, not showing, and so it could be better; I agree.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Mon 4th May 2015 08:15

I really like this Michael but it deserves a title. For me I would ditch the last verse, I don't need to know about the man. And the last line is great, I'd stick that in the verse before where the tree groans. x

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