_Randomize Me
Out of context: Reply #9330
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- sarahfailin0
Wreck
By Stefania GomezFiremen cut the car open like a cake but when
they reached through the windshield to pull me out
they instead grabbed handfuls of confetti.
After the last of that came the poultry—
the rubber chickens and ducks that moaned
in a chorus as they were scooped into the men’s arms
as if they dreaded for their lives to be saved.
Then came the great men of history—Caesar,
Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, Ben Franklin,
together with their wives, who they led carefully
to be sure their skirts didn’t catch
on the jagged glass. Then my boyfriend was pulled out, shrugging.
Then came the mast of a tall ship,
practically as much timber as the woods
off the road the car had flipped into. The firemen took turns
trying to stand it up like a tree, and, laughing, posed for a photo
next to it. Then they pulled out my youth,
at which point they became self-conscious
about their prior merriment and a silence fell.
They pulled out heaven and hell
but couldn’t get a good handle on either.
Couldn’t manage fear but they did
pull out my plans for the future, one by one,
admiring how they shone like coins.
Really, so much was salvaged
that when they stuffed the last
thing they could fit into the ambulance
and shut the door without me,
I could hardly blame them. Sorry, no more room,
they said. Oh no, I don’t mind, don’t for a moment worry
that I mind, I said. With all that
in the car with me, I was starting to think I’d never be alone.