the day of the smell of asphalt

She's moving her lips to somebody else's voice,
You are calling down death, she says, upon yourself.
I want to drop things down long stairwells, I reply,
Dangle my glasses from bridges, I want to reach across
And pull the steering wheel into oncoming traffic.
The city is a map of our mistakes, she tells me.
My CV is made up, I say, of things I can learn in a week.

She looks at me and speaks.
Today I read in the newspaper:
'Baby Heals Man of Face'
And then I read closer:
'Baby Heals Man of Fear'
And then I read closer:
'Baby Seal's Plan of Fear'

Before I started seeings things
I could not believe my eyes.