I could have driven through a red light,
gone skidding, the car thrown
and me strangely okay with whatever
might happen because it didn’t feel
especially dangerous
even if in my night driving I was exhausted
and tense about the distance it took
to show him the spectacle,
a tragedy in an ancient theater.
The costumes were all off, the actors
overplayed their parts, and afterwards
we kept looking for a place to eat.
There was only a ramshackle kind of café.
The young girl serving us
had to cross the road to bring the food.
Cars whipped past dangerously, you had to be aware
of how fast they were going, and it was night
and I was in love with that road.
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