M23, Southbound

ahead the

traffic celebrates

with a christmas tree

of break-lights

oh fuck says

the wife fuck

heads down

the kids don’t hear

its Hotel Transylvania 2

on seat-back DVD

youngest asleep so woo

we settle refresh

deal a hand of biscuits

watch ten minutes

of lights and sirens

on the hard shoulder

on the steering wheel my

hands feel meaty

a farmers hands

sailing his tractor

up the Somme

ahead

something unbuckles

christmas is over

hand break off

tractor speed on

diamonds announce the crash

two cars have come

together and apart

a vomiting woman

paramedics kneeling

dressing a man

in medical rags

and orange peel

another man

still face down

peering through the asphalt

to a hidden world below

his untucked shirt

mouths wind words

his back is 

hairier than mine

in our unshattered

goldfish bowl

we float

across the battlefield

jesus don’t look says

the wife don’t look

go ahead kids

I say

look up

take a little taste

then try to forget