The girl crashes into the tree at night,
the town aware by morning.
The auditorium hosts an assembly
for students reeling in the mystery of death
on seatbelts. Stand up if your loved one
has ever had faulty brakes. Stand up if
you’ve lost someone to forgetfulness
to an ice patch, or a last drink. Stand up
if you’ve ever made the wrong choice
inside a giant machine. The teenagers
are all standing, waiting for the truth
to slip out from the man in charge.
That between his love of laws (to make sure
the culprit is punished) and belief in god
(to extend that sentence into forever)
he might say what the standing teens
suspect: no rule will keep them alive.
Instead he asks the students to look
each other in the eye, promise that friends
won’t let friends make mistakes
like using their fake IDs at CVS. But
their thoughts are on the now hollowed tree.
The airbags rattling in the breeze.
Their eyes scan what was once a childhood
rival, unveiled to be flesh and blood.