PoetryThe pastor’s wife reports to traffic school by Nola Garrett in the January 23, 2013 issueShareShare on TwitterShare on FacebookEmail to a friendPrint We watch cars crash, bodies crush, drunks stagger, adolescents weep, until we believe: no matter how innocent we think we are, how good our intentions, there’s no re-crossing those double yellow lines. No short cuts. Ever. Rock: clay: dust.