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Terry Reads His Poem





Friday nights were production night, when we recorded a lot of skits and sound effects for use on the show Saturday. My sister was driving us to the studio but we were running a little late. In my sister's haste to dump us off at the studio and get back to her boyfriend she was doing about 80 km/h down a dark residential street that has a limit of 40 km/h. In her haste and delirium she never imagined kids would be playing street hockey. I mean what were the odds of this in Canada in fall? I believe she managed to swerve around the net and the rapidly dispersing kids, but she wasn't able to get around the laws of physics, especially as they apply inertia. The car rolled. I remember it skidding along on its hood for a spell before it ended up on its side. Since we all survived, we found it a novel, exhilarating experience. And of course, worth of some degree of parody. Terry read this poem he penned the next day:


My little accident (a little vignette from Nov 18, 1988)

By Terry Brown


Bouncing down the highway at the speed of light

An indifferent passenger watching the night

When suddenly from the dusk it appeared at our left

The unseen obstacle, the hockey net


We cut to the right and back to the center

Employing the brakes we slid towards the shoulder

The car dipped down and caught in the ditch

Our inertia continued, now vertically pitched


In a moment we stopped

Lying on the driver's side

From the tone of the swearing

We had all survived


I took a quick inventory

And felt profound relief

Though dangling inversely

Belted into my seat


Like returned astronauts

We crawled from the car

Through a broken window

Using for a step, my guitar


We stood around joking at our brush with death

Dispassionately retracing the path of the auto wreck

In which lay a broken political lawn sign

Which brought our main concern: a public mischief fine


So quickly had it past

It failed to be traumatic

Though I had never been rolled

In a front wheel drive automatic


Perhaps in time I'll have nightmares

And write dirges in the dark

But in the meantime I'll be happy

To walk away without a mark






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