Issue 16
Road
George Anderson
Home
Welcome
Contents
Contact Us
Join Our Mailing List
What's New
Site Map
Site Search
Burn Out
I come across you dappled in flecks
of light your boot crumpled the paint
on your sides blistered
your tires blown
molten rubber
your insides a mass of
springs.
Three days earlier
the first glint that something is amiss
that you have been flogged
is the hard squeal of tires
in a smoking, uncontrollable arc
spiraling down the wide
weatherboard street.
Today the coppers ring me at work --
they say they have found you
abandoned
burnt out
near Nurragingy Reserve
in a tangle of lantana
the brown tongue of your bonnet
scorched open.
~George Anderson
George Anderson was born in Montreal. He teaches English and history in
Sydney, Australia. He has poems published in literary journals and ezines in
Australia, United States, Canada and Britain. Email.
© 2004 by George Anderson. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2004 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.