Street Race Revisited

The races look the same
in each movie, the cars

and dancing, the incessant
crowds. There are nominal

differences: day or night,
a new obstacle or twist,

but these scenes only exist
as rhyme now, a reminder

that the whole thing began
at high speed, born

in a crucible that won’t stop
haunting its inhabitants.

Again and again they return
to the speed and the music,

the blurred headlights,
and each time, it’s as if

this blur extends outward,
dissolves the TV’s narrow

frame, and draws me in too.