Maine Avenue is Combat
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I don’t know the first thing about writing poetry, but for some reason today’s commute along Maine Ave registered in a big way. Had a gap between events and it just kinda seemed to work in this way…
MAINE AVENUE ISCOMBAT
Maine Avenue is combat.
Penetrate the field of fire on two wheels as
Machine gun jackhammers punch away in the distance.
Cement truck tanks block the string of refugee cars lined up to escape.
“Break Left,Break Left!” as the driver’s side door of a flatbed truck opens in front of you.Maine Avenue is combat.
Feel your bones & teeth rattle as you
work your way across the minefield of potholes.
Stay nimble as you jink around the detritus of battle
which covertly waits to bring ruin to your tires – your escape.Maine Avenue is combat.
Feel the quiet relief as a wingman joins you
and you both slip through to the edges of danger.
Your chatter is clipped and precise — there is no time for superfluous banter
and you acceleratefrom stops as if being chased by dogs.Fight through! Fight through!
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