A half-eaten bag of Fritos,
            salty crumbs softening the crunchy metallic wrapper

Cigarettes,
            their invisible faces digging into the dirt, their butts sticking up in the air

A leaf,
            its burned edges curling up, tracing the edge of the highway

Broken glass,
            glinting diamonds on the liquid black pavement

The ripped tire
            inwardly straining to rejoin its owner-

The car
            stretching her belly over the guard rail, ripped wheels dangling and
            reaching out like arms and legs, her head looking up at the stars

The gasoline,
            a slimy river passing through cigarette butts, broken glass, Fritos

The shoe,
            your favorite, comfy Birkenstock, resting sideways like you, looking out a
The lights,
            flashing and saturating the night with red, yellow, white

And, tomorrow, the cross -
            a small detail that looks up at every passerby with raised eyebrows -

The details,
            pieces of garbage I need to glue you back together.