THIRTY-EIGHT

dammit.
I had a fucking record, too.
douche.

dammit.
of all people in the world,
why does God have to stick him on the sidewalk?
turd.

dammit.
why does it have to be this night,
when I'm exhausted?

but then again,
I thank God,
that no one was hurt.
especially the pitter to my patter
who was directly at the place of impact.

live another day
to see the sunshine
behind the gloomy
gloomy Seattle weather.

I fucking hate driving in the dark rain.