20. BRAKE FAIL
When twin rubber brakes of my amber Mercedes abruptly failed,
while i traversed at shooting speeds through meandering curves of the valley,
bulky brake rubber melting in acrimonious rays of the midday Sun,
the car hurtled down vacuum pores of the mountain,
diffusing into infinite splinters,
burying itself a few feet below green waters.
as i kissed the rear of a horse with fuming ends of red coal,
the tamed beast erupted loose from domains of decency,
ran berserk through fecund fields of ripened sugarcane,
tossing me high in the air for a brief discourse with God,
finally somersaulting down with bones broken beneath silky recesses of my skin.
when dirty black carpets of clouds had a brake fail,
macro droplets of rain pelted down with passionate fury,
the titanic mass of sky wept unrelentingly all day and placid night,
submerged all existing on land in lakes of fresh water,
percolating at astounding speeds through innumerable holes in my house roof.
when monstrous waves in the ocean had a failure of brakes,
they overtoppled strong ships sailing in water,
crashing with profound rage against strings of jagged rocks,
thoroughly flooding barren regions of shore land mud,
devouring with a devilish intent all in proximity and intimate contact.
when frigid brakes of my heart failed to beat rhythmically,
there was an intense pounding that followed suit,
outrageous bouts of euphoria replaced subtle ways of interaction,
i confronted her in person startling her with my piercing gaze,
mustered the strength to propose the girl i loved after years of sequestering myself in oblivion.