Sometimes Harmful Never Helpful

We all took turns on the brakeless bike called Legs,
better a name for a gangster or his girl.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I screamed

at city geese to make them scatter. Not words.
Some other shout. Then, from a car, screamed harder.
I came to hate
+++++++++++whatever I could hear. I came within an inch

of every inch.
++++++++++++++I once did a rubbing of a man
as though he were a very important grave.

Leaving him in winter: steer, he implored, into the skid.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Why should I be told?
When do I not protect myself, and foremost?
Leaving him in summer, how many
times he emphasized a body is no object.

How many times I’ve been advised to drive into the deer.