Foul Encounters

Death along the back-streets. A foul stench reaches my senses. Black and white bloodstained coat In the middle of the road. I swerve just enough to miss it Then roll up the window. Stop sign ahead. I just slow down, glance right then left And roll on through. Blue lights flashing in the rear-view mirror.

God’s name in vain.

Again I slow down. Pulling over To the side of the road. A pig with sunglasses steps from his vehicle- Glaze from a donut hangs on his dark mustache. Rolling down the window - yet another foul odor - Not the swine standing over me Asking for my driver’s license But another crushed polecat Ahead in the road. Mating season for the skunk. Copyright © July 2000 Jason S. Moore ... Newer Poems Fire Giver Serendipity

My Other Poetry

Twilight of the Gods
Cuchullain's Last Stand
The Death of Beowulf
Legacy of the Stranger
Where Sunken Graveyards Dwell
About the Poet Jason Moore
Analyzing the Rendezvous
Maps and Mazes

Email: crimsonrogue@yahoo.com