The headlights in the fog
turned out to be a refrigerator
in the middle of the road with its door open.
This road may lead to a fire extinguisher.
This road may curve while the sidewalk goes straight.
Or the other way around.
Along the side of the road,
stinging nettles creep into single lane choke points
and try to kill automobiles.
A street performer took his title literally.
He walked the double yellow lines in the fog.
He recited deli side orders while juggling canned hams.
The street performer’s name was Eddy.
A jazz score followed him everywhere.
The bass line veered into a cholla thorns.
I fear if I shut the refrigerator door
a catastrophe will occur
that may change the world forever.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney