264/365: The End of AC/DC
You crashed through the ditch
and up into the middle of a dusty field,
screaming his name in triplicate,
punctuating its first syllable
with your palm against the wheel.
I chased you around the car screaming
You nearly fucking killed us
while you tore the cassette tape out in ribbons.
It caught on clods
and fluttered impotent in a hot wind.
Your mouth shrunk in.
Later, after silence, I said,
That was the only tape in the car, and you said,
I can't wait to turn thirty
when things are more boring.