The car drove down the hill. West Ferry Road. It was a familiar place. Felt like home.
It carried a man, aged mid-thirties, dressed like an idiot, and talked like one too,
a body, nothing much to be said
and a newcomer
Laughing in the backseat
None of the lights worked. Nothing really did. Aside from the wheels turning and his heart beating.
The man was unsettled. Something seemed off. Over what he just did. He didn't know where he was going, or what he was doing
But he wasn't coming back
You're a damn fool! A complete idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Said the radio
But it wasn't even on
Down the hill, the car continued. The man, no longer himself, no longer in control, glared at the one sitting beside him.
The body, covered in goop. And smelled like a rotten fish. It didn't move, make a sound. Not even a word.
But did they really have anything worthwhile to say?
If only he knew what he was doing. Should've listened, but it's okay
The price he paid lays in the back
A pathetic mistake this was. A cowardly act. This story will lead to nowhere.
Perhaps you should continue driving
See how this ends
The car found a path to a nearby bridge. A bridge that led to nowhere, but everywhere.
This was difficult
At least the man began to ease out, just like the body next to him, but the newcomer continued to laugh.
That must've been annoying
Nevertheless, the man's mind remained calm, and the engine began to simmer. Like the words on the paper,
Nothing felt real
What do you see? Said the radio. Is this where you planned on going?
No. Said the man. There's nothing there.
Nothing.
The car stopped. Two bodies disappeared, and only one remained.
Now, gazing at the light that rushed the car,
The newcomer continued its laughter as if he knew what was coming
I returned to the bridge sometime later. Not much was there, aside from a few passing cars and the lamppost that gave me life.
Probably
It was a real shame what happened to them. If only he used his brain for once I could've got the whole story, but what's done is done.
I didn't really know them that well. Only from what I've seen and thought, but it doesn't really matter
Because they never even existed.
YOU ARE READING
Kid From the Block: A Poetry Collection
PuisiA small but bittersweet collection of poems from this year's work.