Putting Everyone at Risk

Because of the storm, the intersection is pure

chaos, there are more lights out than the city

can manage with their tart morsels of our money, and here

you are, putting everyone at risk. Your car half

on the street, half over curb, riding sidewalk—you,

turning tail as if someone is after you. Stranger—

we all hope someone is after you. All of us

here waiting at the intersection, our insides

fruiting with malice, we wish you harm, we look

down on you from our vehicles, we see you

for who you really are. We think you are

all wrong, and for a moment we are

united in your seething wrongness—a chain

of pinkies linked together in an oath, a colony of ants

stumbling into the same oblivion,

a crown of bitter flowers. Here are our arms

crooked around one another’s arms; here we

are calling  you over and over and over.