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Poemdog

Dogs 2017

TRAIL OF BLOOD
(8/17/17)

we see them
on the streets

the highways

long
leak lines
of liquid

maybe
fuel

coolant

brake
or transmission
fluid

we arrive
at the end
expecting
a corpse

usually
there's nothing

perhaps
a dried puddle

sometimes
just an abrupt
end
to the streak

we wonder
what has happened
to the mechanical
animal
that had bled
such essential
elixirs

destruction?

resurrection?

or simply
hauled away
to abandonment?

we like
to think
the best

that we'll see
a shiny
repaired vehicle
back
on the boulevard

the only
scars
somewhere deep
in the drive
train

known only
to the smile
behind
the wheel