Passenger A

by Holly Day

I reached across her mini-skirted lap

opened the car door

pushed her out. the joke’s

gone too far, I said as she

stumbled to the curb.

thanks for the ride anyway, she shouted

flipping me off. and yes, I do remember you

from that place

from that thing

I just didn’t want to say anything

because I didn’t want you to know

I knew you back then

because I thought it might fuck you up

embarrass you

you were a real asshole back then

just like now.

a few seconds after I drove away,

I watched her flag down another car

get in and disappear. it was a better car than mine

passed me going fast down the road

carrying that bitch with it

I thought I saw her face in the window as it passed

she looked scared.

I thought about

following the car

seeing where it was taking her

if maybe she needed me to save her from something

but she was such a fucking bitch to me

back then

at that place

I figured that even now

she wasn’t worth the trouble.

* * * * *

Holly Day has taught writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota, since 2000. Her poetry has recently appeared in Big Muddy, The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle, and her published books include Walking Twin Cities, Music Theory for Dummies, Ugly Girl, and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy. She has been a featured presenter at Write On, Door County (WI), North Coast Redwoods Writers' Conference (CA), and the Spirit Lake Poetry Series (MN). Her newest poetry collections, A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press) and I'm in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.) will be out late 2018.