On Central
In a old blue car
She stared straight ahead
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel
Her blond hair curled down her shoulders
Those shoulders tense with fear or anger
The guy beside her was yelling
“Why did you say that?”
“I can’t believe you said that.”
What were you thinking, you bitch.”
He leaned in toward her
Menacing, he stayed there for a second
Before pushing back to his side
I looked at her profile
I saw her breathing become shallow
She still stared at the red light
That held us both captive
On Central in Albuquerque
I rolled down my window
To see if the motion caught her eye
She glanced quickly at me
I mouthed, “Help?”
She shook her head ever so slightly, no.
She gazed at the light again
Tightening her grip on the steering wheel
He was still yelling.
Red turned to green
She held the petal down
The tires screamed
The car jerked
And roared down the street
I can’t forget her profile
And still wonder what happened
In that moment of anger
In the space of the time
It took to change traffic lights
On Central
In Albuquerque
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Tags: Albuquerque, Central Ave., New Mexico, poetry, violence