The blood was
like Jello-O
All over the
backseat of her Ford Victoria
Still painted
like the orca whale
That represented
so much of everything
That the monopoly
money-filled government wanted everyone to think
Because they couldn’t
remember what they were running from
Being a
fugitive for so long
Breaking all
the laws that had the decency to be straight
And the
suggestions that had the rage to be a little bit more crooked than her front
teeth
All stained
like the butts of the cigarettes that she kept in her Altoids tin
Together, cruising
with the sin of forgetting
And bending the
rules like a candy cane
On the fourth
of July
With another
siren following her
To add to the
symphony she found too amusing to drive any faster than a hundred and twenty
Miles per leap
year
They still hadn’t
caught on that she couldn’t
be caught
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