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I wrote poems in my head 

the morning of Tuesday May 19th,

finishing a bottle of diet pepsi 

and driving to a campsite in Illinois 

with my roommate. 

They’re gone now.


When you drive for 4 + hours a day, 

for several days, you realize 

how often tires pop on the freeway. 

I saw an 18 wheeler pop a tire on

Tuesday May 19th.

I was busy writing poems but I still saw it.

There are as many popped tires as there are

dead animals on freeways in the Midwest.



I remember I hit a Raccoon once at night 

on a highway in my moms blue Dodge

Stratus that she traded in for a new black

Honda Civic. Leasing it.


There was a thump and some blood

I think and then that was it and I kept driving. 

I hit some sort of large bird once up north too.

Feathers in the grill and everything.

They’re gone now.


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