Jake's Flea Market

in a driveway
far in the north of the city
at an hour
in one of the long nights when
bedroom windows in the house next door become
lightbulbs
a gallon of blood   pulls open a car door

as the kids next door
begin to dress for school   return
themselves to the levis they wore yesterday
the blood turns
bends itself at the knee   shapes
a skirt to slide
to sit on the fabric of the bucket
seat behind the steering wheel

by the silence
cast on the pavement by a streetlight
you can hear the heart
thump of doormetal   close

you can hear the blood   get the car started

in reverse   the car bleeds down the driveway

then the blood drives forward
delivers itself to the hospital