ex- highway beautification technician

i used to work for the city
i gave them half my life
patrolling the highway in an
off-white van
watching the road for the
kicking legs and flopping torsos of
paralyzed deer

when i found one i’d
park on the shoulder and
kneel beside it
i’d talk softly and
put my hand over its frantic heart
the manual says that a
deer with a severed spinal chord
can’t feel pain
but there’s something in those eyes
something that’s hard to watch
i’d put the barrel of my service pistol
on the temple just behind one of those
terrible eyes
then i’d close my own and
squeeze

i heard that on deathrow
there’s this thing called double jeopardy
if they execute an inmate and
somehow he survives
then he’s free to go

there’s no double jeopardy for halfdead deer

the city fired me
years back
for not meeting my quotas
but i still wake up some nights
to the bark of gunfire

now i work for the grocery store
putting egg cartons in paper bags
i smile at customers
like my boss tells me
but when they try to smile back they
never look me in the face

everyone says there’s something funny about my eyes