Tonight's Poet Corner: Raccoons on the Road

Raccoons on the Road
by Belinda Roddie

It was as if they all hit the pavement
at the same time. Their masks pulled on,
they shuffled across the asphalt in clicks
and scrambles. They didn't see the cars
coming, but they heard the roar, and
they smelled the smoldering rubber.

I wear my own mask as I drive by
their flattened carcasses. From three
dimensions to two dimensions, these overgrown
rodents have escaped their corporeal heists
for a great big trash can in the sky. And somewhere,
they're gnawing on an apple core, working out
their ethereal jaws.

I might tattoo the shadows around
my eyes. The odor of my engine is
both stale and steel. I am a factory worker
wishing I could be nocturnal - breaking off
from the industry and scrounging for meager
sustenance, leftover luxuries tossed
by people sipping soup from quartz ladles
with their faces free of rascal's paint.

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