Five Points Spur

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Five Points Spur


The intersection called Five Points Spur 

was designed—as I imagine it—

with a mind to manufacture the jolt 

which comes of having looked death


in its one working eye and scraped out just alive

all by the time you drop your kid off

at school or make it to your hair

appointment; designed, that is, to dig


its heel into the fat rump  of a Tuesday to see

if—with a jump—it’s still got some get-up-

and-go. I’d like to meet the guy who said 

Here, Here, Here, There, Here, then disappeared


into the pines or the beneath bracken hill

to watch what happens when a few tilted

stop signs and a fistful of chances to change

course meet. Is he amazed at the matter,


or even then was it in his knowing 

that with a few false starts, the occasional 

crunch, for the most part the most of us 

will get where we’re going?


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