When Mike Kajali got out of juvenile
he drove his 1964 Mustang straight
to Krome Avenue and Okeechobee.
He turned the key, rabbit foot dangling.
The ignition sparked the asphalt,
then floored the engine igniting all 8 cylinders
that left a hot alligator trail on the tarmac.
Mary Cooli waited at the finish line,
nervously clutching the condom per his
instructions. The only crossing that night,
a Dade County sheriff escorting her to his
cruiser to ID the driver who spun off
into the glades like an uncaged bobcat.
I checked in on Krome thinking those
days of hoodlum escapades over.
Didn’t know whether to feel horrified
or reassured to capture in the Miami
Herald, March 14, 2021, driver
airlifted after being wedged beneath
tractor trailer on Krome Avenue. All
lanes of traffic closed until cleared.
The sabal palms swerve to catch a hint
of ocean breeze out on SW 177th Avenue
known as Krome to locals. An amber
moon winks and steals across the sky.
A cavalcade of carburetors approach
Spitfire. Dragon’s breath.
Linda Rocheleau has published poetry in numerous small press publications including the Gasconade Review, Trailer Park Quarterly, Chiron Review, Savannah Literary Journal, and others. She has helped to coordinate several literary rendezvous in affiliation with the Chiron Review. She lives in Asheville, North Carolina.