From the Paris Review.
An excerpt from Carl Phillip’s poem; full version here.
Yes they’re the scourge of LA (and New York??) and yes they are an invitation for a terrible accident to occur and yes they are strewn all over the sidewalks in a way that defies logic / city planning / all the times our mothers told us to clean up after ourselves BUT ALSO THEY ARE SCOOTERS. And when it is after midnight, and you feel that there is nothing for it but to scoot… you can.
Full article by Ashley Lee here.