Sally, Defensively SoKristin Kelly
First the Saab’s, then the Pommy’s— or was it, before, the Pizza Man’s? No matter. All the tires are going flat, the night a filling lot of fronts and backs heard popping. Tired, the Betties, and full of pothole, thinking, What sharp ditches we are. And the accident? A checkered car Dan furnished and inhabits, that left her there on the battered road, the icy spot. What a duplex. How divided Betty too feels next to things—bashed on both ends, soft and fluff. When the light outs our Betty opens a book. Buries her faces in.
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