published in Cricket Magazine, February 2006
THE GLOVE BOX
by April Halprin Wayland
Today, while we were driving home
The glove box opened on its own.
My mother leaned across and slammed
It shut with her free driving hand.
And then–within the box–a knock?
Or maybe just a random rock?
A foul smell melted in the air.
A grunge-y voice cawed, “Don’t you dare!”
He kicked it open with both feet.
A vicious kick. I felt the heat
That smoked out of the glove box door.
Is that what glove box locks are for?
SO…what’s in YOUR glove box?
published in Cricket Magazine, February 2006