When I go for a drive,
       the least I can do
       is roll down the window

       and let curses
       come into the car,
       maybe give them a chance

       to put their lips to my lips
       as if we are about to share
       one death,

       as if we being called to resuscitate
       a blue child pulled ut of the public pool
       and take turns

       giving rescue breaths.
       The same air flowing over the car
       moves between three sets of lips,

       going back and forth,
       like a wind created
       during a head-on collision.

Greg Jensen has worked with homeless adults living with mental illness and addiction problems for the past 20 years. Winner of the 2014 Jeff Marks Memorial Poetry Prize, his work has appeared in december, Crab Creek Review, Bodega, Fugue, and Dunes Review. Greg received his MFA in Poetry from Pacific University.
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