Speeding by Antika Saxena

We’re in a black car
driving on a grey road.
We’re sound proof,
bullet proof,
dropped our licenses
at our first MOT,

Red lights and
roundabouts
fall into the background
of side mirrors.

We’re A-Listed,
black-listed,
so famous that
our passport photos
come up on
Google Images.

Roadworks make it
single file so we drive
on the accident lane
like computer games.

It’s all a race – we
started on the last
lap, like those rich
kids who like
almost losing.
It’s called brinkmanship,
cold war, only getting
shot on camera:
digital criminals.