LONG AND FLAT

The back surface of roads

the lost brother of travel

the flats where crossroads

connect unevenly in chaos

a point of standing

stranded out of position

 

rest areas,

concrete tables

chained garbage cans

a sterile living room

absent of comfort.

 

cars park

lovers confess secrets

while drinking warm beer

 

there’s a casual theft of beliefs

and unsung anthems

voices of forgiveness

rise in vertical lines

 

the heart of the desert

is a cold hand.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s