Gene McCormick- A Poem & Art

Mandy

Mandy, here’s the deal:

if you don’t get downstairs

and do some work

we’re not going to do

your laundry any more.

But Mandy is in bed,

curled tight on her side

in a ball,

arms clutched about her.

Her eyes are open.

Mandy comes downstairs,

doesn’t speak, goes directly

outside, splashes soapy water

on the family car and briskly

rubs the same spot for five minutes

in a small circular motion.

Mandy tosses the washrag down,

walks into the street,

the middle,

and stands there,

straddling the center line.

Mandy gets hit by a car.

She’s dead.

Brief Bio: If there is one thing that annoys Gene McCormick, a/k/a/ “Mr. Road Kill,” it’s young women who stand in the middle of the street and get in the way of his front bumper. Actually, other things annoy him as well.