STREET BELOW

Car lights pass below on the street.

Bloated twisted images spread shadowed

alien figures onto building corners,

peppering them onto flowered

wall paper in my room,

laying them flat with quiet colors.

Tires hum grand and black, forming

voices from the motion of speed on pavement.

Red lights make for angry stops.

Engines battle for running; neon lights

ask for company and just one drink.

The wisdom of day is lost on the foolishness

of night. Hearts weak for compassion

welcome sidewalk shadows.

A car door signals an in and out.

Tires hum forward.


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