Fairly new poem. . .

These Boys in the Car

I’m thankful for the conversations you have
with the people who talk to you first
because I am the worst
at being the one
who has to talk first

And so this is the story
told to me
in the back of a church sanctuary
from the very last pew
by a woman I knew
through her husband
and because I didn’t get up the nerve
I almost never heard
the greatest story
that I’ve ever heard

she says,
“These two boys!
These two boys!
High school age
come flying over the hill
by our place

these boys are driving
90
just flying!
Over the hill by my place

And as they come over the hill
what do they see standing right in the middle?
Right on the double yellow line?
But a bull
a full sized, brown bull with horns no less
and they hit that bull head on,”
she says


“Boom! The bull drops dead in the middle of the road
and the boy’s car goes
and skids into the ditch
an front of my home

and now over the hill comes a semi
from the other way.”
“No, way,” I say, “No way,”

“Yes,” she says, “This semi
now it comes flyin’
over the side of the hill
and there is the bull
still
lyin’
right in the middle of the road
right front of my home

and the semi just annihilates this poor bull
launching it into the air
and this mass of blood, meat, and hair
comes crashing down
where?
Right on the hood
of the car
of the boys in the ditch

it’s just staring
through the cracked windshield
with it’s big, dead, bull eyes
blood dripping
as both boys try
to get out of the car but they can’t
because the doors are stuck

and then the semi,” she goes on,
“Slides over the ditch
and it skids onto my lawn
and tears through the grass I just mowed
until it comes to a stop
just feet from my picture window.”
As she’s talking
I’m leaning more and more forward
on the pew where I sit
and I think this story is so freaking fantastic
I can’t wait
to steal it

“There’s more,” she says
but I don’t know if I can take any more
there’s speed, and wrecks, and blood, and gore and stupidity galore
what more
could you need in a story?

She says, “I’d been asleep
and I hear this crash
so I make a mad dash
to the living room
I throw open the curtains and look outside
and staring back
are the eyes
of a man of a man in surprise
behind the wheel
of an enormous semi
just three or four feet away, maybe five

so I run over
and throw open the door
and see the boys with the bull on their hood
screaming in horror
for someone to open their doors
and I think for sure
this is the end of the world
and the bull. . .
starts. . .
to moan. . .
Arrrruuuuuuuuu!

And those boys fly
into that backseat so fast
as the bull raises his head and looks right passed
them
almost like he’s looking at me
and thinking
This isn’t how I thought my day
was going be

and now the semi driver is out on the lawn
between the truck and my home
standing there
stretching out his arms
as if measuring the distance
from his grill
to the window glass
as if it were the distance
from his first breath to his last

and I just called 911
and by the time I get done
telling them what I’ve seen
all three town cops come
because this story’s too good to believe

and as the first cop car approaches the site
the guy gets so excited
that he immediately slams on his brakes
and the two cars that are behind
can’t stop, and they collide
with his backside
causing the fourth and fifth wrecks of the day.”

and so she finishes her story
this wonderful story
with such bravado and blazing white glory
and I cannot think of the words
to show appreciation for the story I’ve heard
so I just give her a hug and say
thank you