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CheapTacos

Jon Carter

the stars were
silver coins dropping
out of the sky into a sea
of streetlights.

the motor in the 99
hummed softly,
hand on the wheel
check engine
light: on.

flash your lights, flash your lights...
my buddy said from the passenger side.
why? I asked.
‘cuz they’re in the bushes.

who’s in the bushes? I asked
pulling up a little.
the guys with the stuff, man.
the crack.

I’m not buying crack with you,
man. get some help,
I’m getting tacos.

he waved his hand out the window
at the bushes and
I rolled the window on him.

you fucker, he said.
you want any tacos? I asked.
I was ordering...

the night carried on
as it always did in that corner,

the stars and streetlights
shooting prisms thru the city,
little wars being waged
in the puddles of blood

drying on the cement

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