Three Poems by David Gitin


The Hitchhiker

        shouts

huddled against the wind

      as metal whirls past

    a door

          recedes into the sky

 

For Carl Rakosi

out

      in the open


        the shimmer

of light


    where the blacktop

        appears to end


                curves

        to continue

 

America


      of right reason argued some

plum cotton toolkit message

  plastic vertebra, an accident, she said

  of temper. the directionals, that parking lot,

      the way the rain dampens. we all do

       leave, and the policecar watches

            after the movie

David Gitin