Poem: Parking, rush hour, Temple University 2/18/22

credit: Depositphotos

Traffic has stopped in the right lane and I see over the horns and dickheads that somebody has crushed the back legs and hips of this poor opossum by running them over, because there’s no way he could fake dragging his entire weight across Broad St with two little paws and sunken eyes just like my best friend’s cat and a jaw set in survival. A jaw like the boxer outside my office building swiping at invisible adversaries, may he protect us may he survive this. Somebody shouted that Thursday is Monday’s sister-in-law and Friday is Saturday’s cousin. I’ll be back tomorrow and select days each week after this.

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