Ambulance Driving

The radio calls us; I flip on my lights
Peel onto the road; the world strobes red and white
The siren wails its bean sidhe cry
Says what we don't--someone's going to die.
We shoot down the road, through the remnants of night
"Your ETA?" "A minute.  Three more streets--clear right."
I park by the cop cars.  We assess, load and go.
I jump back in my cockpit, flip around nice and slow
Because there's no room for screwups, no scrapes or wrong turns
If I lose control of this thing, we're all gonna burn.
I'm eating up freeway; hell nips at my heels
Wide eyes on the road, white hands on the wheel
From way in the back, a noise, muffled curses
(My forbearers took their patients in hearses)
I throw open the doors; we unload this disaster
Blown IVs, chest compressions--if I'd just driven faster--

But no.  Lift some weights, walk your dog, or (heh) write a poem,
But whatever you do, you can't bring this stuff home

We clear on the airwaves, catch a call as it drops
Oh summer child, did you think it ever stops?