Death Pile

When I was sixteen

working

a shit job at 7-11,

a kid came in

        twice my size

and blew pot smoke

in my face.

I hadn't smoked weed yet,

so I didn't know

this was a message

from my future

telling me to write things down

for when I forget.

        The kid grabbed a 24pk

of Coors Light under each arm

and ran

full speed

out the door,

hopped into a hatchback

and sped away

like a demon in the night.

Ten seconds later..

the terrible noise

of two cars crashing,

becoming one.

I'll never forget

the sight and sound

beer makes

while hissing and pissing

and spinning wildly

around two death piles

of twisted steel.