Watching the asphalt,
I'm run over by a car.
I was six, moonstruct.
I stop at the light.
The woman in the next car
almost married me.
All my life I have
counted syllables like this,
haikus of brief love.
Let the poets know
that I was a meat eater
who liked haiku raw.
Coal mines of my heart.
The canary dies.
It's time to get out.
