-Kansas samaritan-

to take a piss

I'll pull-over to the breakdown lane
on Interstate 35 North to Olathe, where

a short walk across the shoulder toward the blind

of the woods shelters the sensitivities of passers-by.

but what’s a dead newborn possum

doing all the way out here?

it's got the snout.

it's got the grey skin.

it's got the pink dot

at the end of both ends.

not long dead;

no infestation, and in the palm of my hand

it feels pliable, as if death excused itself

at the moment of my intrusion.

I'll lay the lifeless newborn possum

down in the high meadow-grass
far enough away to avoid splattering,

enjoy a quick relief at the tangle of the sassafras

then carry it to the center lane markers
of Interstate 35 North to Olathe where it belongs

in the company of the spirits of its own kind.