April+5


 * The Sacred**

//Stephen Dunn//

After the teacher asked if anyone had a sacred place and the students fidgeted and shrunk

in their chairs, the most serious of them all said it was his car, being in it alone, his tape deck playing

things he'd chosen, and others knew the truth had been spoken and began speaking about their rooms,

their hiding places, but the car kept coming up, the car in motion, music filling it, and sometimes one other person

who understood the bright altar of the dashboard and how far away a car could take him from the need

to speak, or to answer, the key in having a key and putting it in, and going.


 * At The Last Rites for Two Hotrodders**

//X. J. Kennedy//

Sheeted in steel, embedded face to face, They idle now in feelingless embrace, The only ones at last who had the nerve To meet head-on, not chicken out and swerve.

Inseparable, in one closed car they roll Down the stoned aisle and on out to a hole, Wheeled by the losers: six of fledgling beard, Black-jacketed and glum, who also steered Toward absolute success with total pride, But, inches from it, felt, and turned aside.