Trans Am - 50% Off Poem by Nat Z. Punx

so it was summer
sweet summer of fifteen
went to the viaducts
with spray paint, beer and acid
beautiful midwestern afternoon
wandering in the cool cement vein
having a relaxed trip
then it sounded
concrete humming loud
echoing through the tunnels
banging on my addled brain
earthquake
overpass collapse
bombing
did reagan squeeze too hard?
but regardless
the cops will catch us
we ran through the opening
still intact
the highway had suddenly become choked
i ran up the embankment
on the other side of the interstate
the rig driver was stepping out
i came up on the shoulder
and watched
motionless
a crowd had gathered
as we traveled out of the flumes
and the driver
they surrounded him
with a strange sort of malice
good people
ready to strike
i was grasping at the scene
took a few seconds to come to
i wondered what he had dropped
it was so loud
orange pieces in the road
the rescue crew was there
in no time
in that compressed frame
no time
i was still motionless
still
motionless
people are running to the crew
they are pointing down the road
they rush a gurney in the direction
then i see them lift the glass
from the bail of
gray and black and orange
i see the white interior
and the bodies
i recognize the second mass
as the rear end of a T/A
man still upright
in the back seat
fourth one felt like traveling a bit more
before making his final exit
landing down where the crowd had pointed
the driver of the unladened rig was drunk
shoved the pontiac into
and through
a highway light pole
quiet tones on that trip
not bad
just quiet
not so much laughing
like a giggle
could eddie though the universe
and disturb some delicate balance
i learned that night
although life is illusion
it is still very real