Dead Black Child with a Bicycle Before the Underpass
alan catlin
In the distance, the overweight woman is
running, waving her arms in the air, no one
can hear her desperation, the wailing. the
hysterical cries, up the road, the small ones
are riding their two wheelers as fast as they
can, rumps high in the air, excited eyes, wide,
fearful. Overhead, cars are crossing the overpass,
are cresting the sloping humps of a Sunrise
Highway, shooting down the Merrick Road spur
where the Sunrise Bowl flashing neon sign is
missing an R, is missing an L. Down below,
by the side of the road, is the bent frame of
the bicycle and the dead one lying as if asleep,
his white eyes open, staring up into a cloudless sky.
