Combust By Ben Newell

Hitchhikers gone

the way of the payphone, 

the way of the cigarette commercial,

the way of Farrah’s feathered hair—

CCTV cameras on every corner, 

potential victims wielding iPhones 

which might as well be tasers, 

overprotective helicopter parents 

hovering like Hueys on a strafing run—

Your serial killing heroes had it easy,

police badges and switchblade knives 

for sale between a grainy centerfold 

and Bukowski’s latest rape story  

because even the Ford Pinto seemed 

like a good idea before it exploded. 

Ben Newell lives in Mississippi where he works as a bookseller and freelance writer. His poems have appeared online and in print, most recently at Fixator Press and Cajun Mutt Press. He taught high school English for one day.