I was drinking coffee this morning
watching the news
when the anchor said an accident had occurred
in the city where I worked.
The streets were all
too familiar.
A man
on a motorcycle
had been run over
by a bus.
Dead on the spot.
I finished my coffee, got
in the shower. I sang
to the happy songs on the radio.
I danced.
Sitting in bed,
a fluffy towel on my head,
I wondered
why that man
couldn’t have been me instead.
Lipstick and Knives 