I don't remember driving home,
From happy hour time last night.
Running late, I grabbed for my comb,
Hungover and hair all in a fright.
The news came on the radio,
Reporting a bad hit and run,
Last night about 7 or so,
By a red and white Suburban.
Witnesses said that a small child
Was struck in the crosswalk and embedded
Into the car, which drove on wild.
I went and found what I'd dreaded.
In the garage, in the car grill -
The body embedded there still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem