I Might Have Heard a Moa

a moa is a flightless bird,
very breast (so then feelings
and heart) heavy.
interesting, that.

documentation of extinction-
level events is strange
because it just smiles, nods,
and gives passing glances at the life
and times of a thing and maybe,
if you're lucky,
an insight into why it died:

i feel sorry about a lot of things
like that time i almost killed you
when i was driving too fast and
the road was wet and
we hit a puddle
barely skidding to a stop.

i didn't throw out my arm to stop you from flying forward.
i guess i didn't care as much as i thought
          or maybe i trust the engineering of the car to keep you alive
          instead of my flimsy arm.

i feel sorry about the fact that this
is a really self centered poem:
almost every sentence starts with I.

but tonight,
jaundiced veins track
double lines on the pavement;
fog oozing from the edges
of the night, clouding the world
with the thunder in my eyes.

the glossy shhhhhhhhhhhhh
of tires on pavement
turns my brain to
static,
and in the ringing of my ears
i might have heard a moa.