Disappear

You get so lonesome
sometimes you can’t see 
anything
and what you can see
can’t possibly be there.

happy hollowdays

Driving in the woods and the fog tonight 

almost the second car crash this week, 

the deer lit up scared in the headlights 

she went right, hooves down the pine needle bank

I went left, rubber down the asphalt slick. 

I turned my headlights into the woods

saw her breath puff out first, then 
her golden brown eyes 

coming around the corner of a tree

staring no blinking into my translucent blue eyes. 

She didn’t run.

Looked like she wanted to say

Merry Christmas. 

I knew exactly how she felt. 

A Fish Tale

I just got home.

But before I got here,
I was driving home—in a free, wide-open mood
from Trader Joe’s,
had some nice, highly-spirited conversations
with half the staff,
turns out they all like me.

I sorta thought so but now
I sorta know so, and I feel great.
Not that I’m so nipple needy
but it’s true what they say about community.
Guess I won’t hide from it anymore.

Well, anyway ...
I was driving home from Trader Joe’s
just now, feeling the loose and casual
but overwhelming ZING! of humanity
right down my spine.

But I lost control of my car in the blizzard
that is still going on out here and
I went into a long skid
sliding straight at a tree
doing 60
in a 35
the radio on number  ... well, way up Loud—
Tracy Chapman singing
"Give Me One Good Reason."

Yesterday was so bad, I thought
as I slid toward the tree,
back home a box of senior citizens down the hall
smelling like The End.

Give me one good reason not to go
straight into this tree, sang Tracy,
as I slid closer to it.

But today felt so good.
It had been such a friendly afternoon.

Still sliding, I thought:
if this is it, if I'm about to get killed
this is a good day to go,
a good way to go
everybody liking me out at Trader Joe’s.

I settled into the skid
turned up the radio
but the car began to fish-tail,
spin, ballerina around, and I missed the tree
and everything else
solid.

The car and I were facing back west,
the road empty, the snow still sending mail;
I drove back in that direction.

This not the end.
And I didn’t really just get home.
But I’m on the way.