YOUR ADVENTURE

If you were twelve and Ronnie
ran over from his place yelling
there's been a big pile-up down
at the bridge, you would jump on your

bike and ride like a bat out of you
know where just like I did that
summer Saturday back in ‘53.
You'd see the tire marks and

you'd imagine hearing the screams
from the passengers when they
realized they were going
to smash head-on into the dump

truck coming around the curve.
You wouldn't be surprised to
see a crowd of people standing
around the ambulance but

you would be surprised to
see the driver of what was left of
the ‘49 Mercury lurching around,
hardly hurt, saying it isn't his

fault goddamit that everybody
in the car is dead he'd only
had a coupla beers so stop
lookin' at him like he's some

common criminal. You'd see the
police car pull up and a cop
would come over and say you
kids beat it so you'd get back on

your bikes and head home
where your mother would
be standing on the porch
with her hands on her

hips and giving you that look of
hers and she'd say where've
you been, what were you
and Ronnie up to and
you'd both say "Nuthin."