--- 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.