Vulgar Latin for “Leave a Pursuer with Just One’s Cape”

She runs beneath
Highway 100. It’s dark
and damp and filled with echo,

and she likes the momentary fear
the sound of footfall behind her
triggers. She runs

from herself. From a distance,
she can hear a radio playing.
A woman sobs

over the death
of 3,000-year-old sequoia trees.
Vic Chesnutt sings

“The Gravity of the Situation.”
Flames everywhere
inside her mind. She runs through.

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