Jay Walk

Living Near Where I Grew Up

Driver arrested after fatal hit-and-run crash in Vista
I almost certainly heard it happen on
the thoroughfare outside my window. 
There is such bare-knuckle chaos on the daily that
it’s hard to tell when something truly strikes.
So many near misses and almost bloody jaywalkers:
its become the norm. Pedestrian right of way,
mixed with apartment dwellers trying 
to save thirty seconds on their way to 7/11

The loudest screech and peel of rubber,
followed by dead silence in the early morning.
If I never look outside the window, it never happened.
We’ll call it Schrodinger's coward, how’s that?
My brain hits pause in the face of tragedy
If I face the issue, it deconstructs me.
So I face the wall and put myself in timeout because 
At least it's quiet here.
If it's quiet, I can pretend like I don't live where I do.
Ten short walking minutes from the same tile floors
that I threw up on when she poured Tide down my trachea. 
My brain still feels in close proximity. 
And so the hit and run just piles on to all 
That stolen memory.