Road Tar

　　 by Chase Twichell

　　 A kid said you could chew road tar

　　 if you got it before it cooled，

　　 black globule with a just-forming skin.

　　 He said it was better than cigarettes.

　　 He said he had a taste for it.

　　 On the same road， a squirrel

　　 was doing the Watusi to free itself

　　 from its crushed hindquarters.

　　 A man on a bicycle stomped on its head，

　　 then wiped his shoe on the grass.

　　 It was autumn， the adult word for fall.

　　 In school we saw a film called Reproduction.

　　 The little snake-father poked his head

　　 into the slippery future，

　　 and a girl with a burned tongue was conceived.

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