Nobody is Legit by Mark James Andrews

I down shift my Dodge to help out 

the brakes & it almost worked 

but my grinding bomb plows 

another beater stopped at the red 

on 8 Mile Road at Mound Road 

a minor cave-in but the trunk pops open

on the crap looking Ford I rear ended 

showing shiny black garbage bags 

so I struggle to get mine into reverse

the clutch another source of grinding

as my grill avalanches to the pavement

then I pull off to the right but a huge

hand out the window waves me

forward so I pull up close 

all windows down in both our cars

two guys looking to read my eyes

one goes “You good?” & I nod 

“Fuck it then!” he screams 

& they peel off with lights out.

We all know nobody is legit 

no proof of no-fault insurance 

possible outstanding warrants

or felonies in progress

in the wee small hours

on the borderline crossroads

past the Railroad Crossing Bar

just down from Kwicky Bar 

Alibi Bar & the Golden Greek 

all the hang out joints for a hive 

of Chrysler plants & a hot spot 

for traffic stops which lead to 

1,001 ways to send you to hell

& a lifetime of the long dick of the law. 

Mark James Andrews is a Metro Detroit poet who has worked a checkered career as a gravedigger, inspector at a defunct auto plant, jail librarian and library director. He is the author of So I Lit A Fire for The Last Thanksgiving (Alien Buddha Press), Motor City is Burning & Other Rock & Roll Poems (Gimmick Press), Compendium 20/20 (Deadly Chaps Press), Burning Trash (Pudding House Press) and a poetry recording Brylcreem Sandwich Band (Bandcamp).