"But first, baby, as you climb and count the stairs (and they total the same), did you, sometime or somewhere, have a different idea?
Is this, baby, what you were born to feel, and do, and be?"

-Kenneth Fearing

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Local Man Killed in Accident


Reading your obituary,

I thought of you as a teenager, the summer night

you walked to the Ashford Used Car Lot to steal a Camaro.

Kevin and I were driving past and he recognized your jacket.

Your tools were laid out on the seat like a real mechanic.

With ignition popped, the screwdriver should’ve started it,

but somehow you hit the horn and it wouldn’t stop honking.

You grabbed your tools and jumped in the back of the Escort,

because we didn’t have long. Before we could move,

a cruiser appeared, blinding us with flashing blues.

While we tried to get our story straight,

you jumped out the window and ran for the trees.

Kevin pointed after you, a “he went that a way” no cop could resist.

We knew he’d never catch you in your own back yard,

and we left fast, before the cruiser could return.

I remember you running so fast,

vanishing into the trees, as it dawned on the cop

that he’d never find you. Kevin said “That was close.”

and I laughed because it was, but we always got away.

                           -Brent Allard


  1. This is such a powerful piece, Brent. Stunning.

  2. Thank you Emm! I'm glad you liked it!