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