She put him right
out of his misery,
shoved the whole couch
he was always sleeping
on right into the middle
of a busy intersection
in front of their house in suburbia.
Semi’s coming off I-80 blew
air horns in disgust and engaged
ordinance-forbidden jake brakes,
able to swerve and miss him
altogether. He slept through it all,
the crashing Amish buggy,
the near death by minivan, the whizz
of many a motorcycle veering
onto the berm. A speeding car
with a less skilled college student
texting while driving did the trick,
snuffed him out. Cushions lay
in tatters on the road
while his wife sat in the empty space
in the living room, eating popcorn
in front of the window.
Bio: April Salzano teaches college writing in Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in Poetry Salzburg, Pyrokinection, Convergence, Ascent Aspirations, The Rainbow Rose, The Camel Saloon, The Applicant, The Mindful Word, Napalm and Novocain, The Second Hump, Jellyfish Whispers, The South Townsville Micro Poetry Journal, The Weekender Magazine, and is forthcoming in Inclement , Poetry Quarterly, Decompression, and Daily Love. She is working on her first collection of poetry and an autobiographical novel on raising a child with Autism.