is your car gas or electric?

i see my friend

Betty sitting on her front porch

putting

Vaseline

on her scraped knees

and elbows.

then wrapping bandages around

them.

there's an egg sized

bruise on her forehead

and a tooth is chipped.

what happened to you, i ask her.

did you get back with

Harry again?

no, no, she says. never.

i was out on the 110 protesting

big oil companies,

lying in the road,

when some angry

motorists dragged us off

the road and threw us down

an embankment.

dang, i tell her. 

i banged my head

against an old washing machine

rusting in the storm drain.

geeze.

can i drive you to the doctor?

you should have

yourself checked out.

maybe, she says, trying to

stand up.

i feel really dizzy and i'm

spitting up blood. okay, okay.

but,

is your car gas or electric?