When Automobiles Attack

it dances on little
scraps of rubber
to your tune
for now but you know
it’s going to make a move

you won’t see it
behind you
make a crossover
slidestep for the guardrail
there before you

or it turns
doubles back on you
glares at you with its brights
red as bats’ eyes
now it’s mad

you’re still behind the
wheel but it doesn’t care
now it’s got you
in its sights
forget your seatbelt

it’ll go through its own
windshield to get
at you now
it can smell your bones
it will eat itself whole

Tad Richards

If you've any comments on this poem, Tad Richards would be pleased to hear from you.