John Grey

Bad Accident on Route Cerebellum

Memories collide with thought
like cars coming from opposite directions,
both hugging the middle lane.

My head is a mangle
of nostalgia
and what do I do next.

Gale takes my hand
like some kind of rescue vehicle
but the crash occurred
where she can’t see.

Besides, her older and younger self
are in the wreckage.
Could she bear to watch one live,
the other die?

Body Work

Three a.m.
I jolt awake 
with a heartbeat on hyperdrive,
lungs groaning like sweaty barrels,
and nerves as taut as a cobra’s throat.
A nightmare
with a body to match.     
None of it was real, I tell myself.
Then it’s time for
what is real.
Even more there
for a body to work with.