Cheltenham Elegy #524

When he drives around Elkins Park in the dead of night, he thinks, this is how I like the human race— asleep. When three roads fork at Myers, he goes down Mill Road. By the time the car climbs Harrison Ave, he has the thought that the sleeping human race is the holy one. He pushes past the old derelict high school on High School Rd, wonders if its still haunted. It flashes on him: the day he broke in, smack in the middle of the Nineties, with buddies now long dead. He found a hammer, stole it, never used it— it sat in his closet until after graduation. He was smashed then, too.