I can hurt people

Slingshot frisbee pie pan

Flew off the hood of my car

And smashed on the street

I watched it through the windshield

A movie screen 

I picked blackberries 

Thornily protected 

Crushed them in a pot boiling

Separated juice from pulp

Thickened the magenta into a syrup

Darkest purple swirl 

In sweetened condensed milk

Surprise plop golden egg yolks

A custard into a crust

A pie baked for a potluck

I lost control when I carried 

My whipcreamed round

Carefully to the car

Set it down on the hood 

To say goodbye or arrange items 

Hopped in the drivers seat

And set off with relief

To the last stop of the day

Around some bend 

Curving quickly velocity acceleration

Physics undeniable pulled 

The pie onto the road

Purple cream and glass

Heart racing you wouldn’t believe

Horror jaw dropped 

At the absence of pedestrians 

No bikers no passing cars

Alternative universe in which

My pie murders 

Pray to whatever god 

And then later sitting in their lap

I closed my eyes and waited 

For a constipated tear to fall

And uncork my weeping 

Grief for each of the grips 

I was losing