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--- J O E   D U N T H O R N E

In-between stripes of the zebra
crossing, a woman knelt.
She pumped his heart
like an industrial-size ketchup dispenser.

We knew it was her fault by the angled Volvo, driver's door open, windscreen webbed.

Pedestrian: he must have gone straight up and down again like the weight in a Test Your Strength machine.

With the radio off - out of respect - we drove on, one tire riding the pavement, the evening briefly askew.

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