Road Head

Road Head

Rigor mortis hit the carcass like the car.

Escapism encapsulated his pupils

Her fingers tightened around his belt loopholes

It had been thirteen minutes, since the bar

Twenty four minutes since, “you look just like [insert movie star]”

In the passenger seat, she swallowed her scruples

The chicken crossing the road swallowed the futile,

Rigor mortis hit the carcass like the car.

 

No heaven for road kill,

Heads bob with the bass lines tunk-tunk,

He punches the roof, punches the gas

Greed’s lupine eyes drink their fill,

She rotates so passing headlights may see her ass,

He bursts, animal blood trickles out behind the trunk.

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