Stop and Go

I live on a short quiet block of brownstones with a traffic light at either end.

A red car sped by much faster than cars usually drive down my street. It was followed closely by another, this one black. The light at the end of my block turned red. The driver of the first car braked hard. The second car slammed into it. There was a violent noise, then smoke and quiet. The driver of the first car opened his door. He was wearing a motorcycle helmet, a black blazer, and a blank expression. He turned his head in my direction. I couldn't see his eyes through the visor of his helmet. He walked with a slight limp to the driver's side window of the second car. He took a handgun from the holster across his chest. With a quick chopping motion he used the butt-end of his gun to smash the window. He reached into the car with his free hand and held it against something for a moment. Then he began walking in my direction.

There are so many different ways to get to the places I go in my neighborhood. But I always walk in the same straight lines.

Here is my ballot for the 2012 Pazz and Jop music critic's poll.

And here is a new song I enjoy: