from the collection Oracles & Blabbermouths (c) 2014

~

Commute, a Sentence

~

Traffic will often get the best of us

A horn

A middle finger

A cuss or hundreds

~

The stampede to jobs that most of us

Do not like

Do not care

Do very very poorly

~

The rush to stoplights and rolling stopsigns

Edge up

Ease forward

Blow through it

~

The manic desperation of our days its no wonder

Hearts attack

Strokes of genius

Burning questions in our bellies

~

The whirlwind cadence of jackhammer drumbeats

Angry percussive

Foreign to

Our steady peaceful tempo

~

What has this world come to?

Where is it going so quickly?

We have become

Fuzzy what-was-thats

Whipping in the periphery

~

{written circa 2011}

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