the crash
If I died tonight would I be proud of the way I conducted my life?
The seventeen year olds face was bloody
In the night our van slammed into snowy road driver side
She swerved in front of us
Sibyl driving
Us in the back watching a movie without seatbelts
On down the road
Like we had countless times before
Countless lives before
Only this time we were stopped by damned youth on their way home from shitty fast-food jobs
I got out quick the van was still halfway on the road
Forked in 90 degrees the trailer smashed up against the back
Sibyl ran to the girl
When she got out we heard cymbals crash
Like the end of a bad song
Or waking up into a nightmare
Sibyl had said oh god we’re gonna crash
And then I looked up and saw the car in front of us
And it all went slow and fast at the same time
I grabbed hold of my seat and then
We crashed
And the world spun as nature and fate kicked us back and forth
Like a hackey sack over dantes inferno
Or a junkyard soccer ball wanting a goal at the gates of heaven
Only this time we hit the post and bounced back into the field of the living
Our lives
These terribly delicate things
Just hanging there like needle and thread
Over the holes in the world
A passenger was walking in the cold with black short sleeves
In a state of shock
Was I and he
Getting out from a visionless space onto the scene of threatening chaos
You are bewildered and hyper present
I told wiz and Kraig to get out of the van whose front end was all smashed and pressed against the wheel
Everyone seemed to be ok
Kraig said his leg was hurt and gave a scream right after it happened
Wiz seemed all right
I turned on the hazards and went up the bank of snow to the girl whose face was dark with blood and motionless except for a quiver
Has anyone called 911? I asked.
Yes but call again said sibyl
I got my phone but it took a second to figure out how to use it
Still in shock I guess
Even now as I write still just thinking of the girl
As her face came alive as I was
On the phone with operator
The girl squealing like a wounded animal
So frightened
Why is my face wet?
Squealing
I don’t want to die
My back hurts
Sweetie don’t move
It’s the only thing 911 said
That and the ambulance is coming
And no yer not gonna die
But how did I know
I didn’t
She was real fucked up
Her driver side door all caved in from the front of a big van and trailer
Heading down the highway
Soon a cop came
Then another
And another
And then emergency workers and firemen until there was a whole city of lights and emergency vehicles created around the scene
And suddenly night was day as big lights were hoisted all around off of trucks and things
And a big crew of emergency workers around her trying to eradicate her from her phony metal tomb
Her fear her squeals as they rolled her onto a stretcher ran from the ice around my frozen feet up into my heart and into the center of my mind
The absurdity of life and death and the thin line it’s all built upon
Now here
In this hotel
This nowhere
All I see is her face
Its weird
When we got in the cop car
Radiohead was on the stereo
singing
God loves his children
God loves his children yeah
Didn’t know how to take it
I hope that girl makes it out of that hospital in one piece
Able to walk and run down the street
I asked an emergency worker if we could check on her but he said no
Its oddly intimate like being in a war together
And the knowledge of the results of intertwining karma seems like relevant and even vital information
But life doesn’t stop being cold and ruthless just because of yer sudden awareness of its frailty
And then she was gone
And I was dealing with a tow truck and unable to feel my feet
Like numb blocks standing in disturbingly fancy boots
I should be more than I am I thought
Strange that there are situations where designer boots can make you feel like an asshole
The EMT workers kept asking us if we were ok
We kept looking at each other and saying
Yeah I think so
A little sore is all
How do we honor this life enough?
How do we protect it enough?
Maybe you cant on both counts
I certainly could do better
Be more present
More generous
More real
More vital
But then we all need and choose pockets of escape
And when the days drone on
It’s easy to take it all for granted
When death isn’t bleeding in a car asking you for help
Or a girl of seventeen
Trying to escape a broken body
A smashed car on the edge of oblivion strangers of fate’s distance trying to tell us something from the place where snow falls
5 months ago
