Crank (Crank 1)

seemed to sleep beneath my feet as I ran,

a mustang over moonlit playa; a cheetah

in high gear. No fear, no brakes, consumed

by some irrational itch to cruise along

shadowy thoroughfares, traveled by demons.

Brendan Was Waiting

in a battered mud-colored Bronco.

Climb in. You look great.

Winded. Hair plastered by my

escape sprint. He was a liar.

A smooth, gorgeous liar.

Wanna go up to Chamberlain Flat?

Secluded five miles up a rutted

dirt track, the played-out mine

was a notorious party spot.

Supposed to be a party up there.

Anything could happen at a party

up there. Good things. Bad things.

Truly evil things.

Ever hear about Evan Malone?

Evan Malone, urban legend—eighteen

and in league with Satan, skinning

goats up at Chamberlain Flat.

My brother went out with his sister.

So he was more than just a parental

fabrication meant to scare kids

away from abandoned mine shafts?

He was real, okay. Kyle met him.

Met him and what? Dressed up like

Halloween, prayed to the devil,