sirens cut the air
more often where i live now
the train tracks just beyond the yard
the airport 1 mile away
the industrial park 1/4 away
this is the last house on a dead end
a chain-link fence between us
& a middle school
where weeknights at 2 a.m.
teenagers do 360's
in the parking lot
the squealing of rubber
on empty blacktop
ripping through the mesh
on fully open windowed summer nights
careless kids shaving hundreds
of miles off tires
while mine will be bald
by winter
& i wake from one nightmare
into the next
stumble into the shower
at 2:38 a.m.
the cool water hitting the salty
film on my skin
afterward i stand in towel
in front of box fan that is
propped on an old chair
my arms above my head like at gunpoint
the whirling blades
finally doing their job right