is inevitable given the level of impact, windshield with cranium, one on one.
Evidence indisputable. And yet, you stammer otherwise, saying, you were
in control, total control. You allowed your forehead to smack the impudent glass,
to crack its shatterproof smugness, to put its pieces in their places. The steel plate
in your head - think Viet Nam, protects you from everything except airport security,
who always want to marvel at your metal next to your mind, your open wound,
the finest modern medicine has to offer its vertiginous veterans.
Richard Weaver resides in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. He volunteers with the Maryland Book Bank, and is a seasonal snowflake counter (unofficially). His publications include Crazyhorse, Loch Raven Review, North American Review, Poetry, Black Warrior Review, New England Review, Southern Quarterly, and the ubiquitous Elsewhere.