Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Transiting the Mechanized Jungle



Endlessly passing
cars on the interstate
pointed toward a
distant leaning gray-green
house
where rent was due in
vicodins and
cheap vodka that flowed
like a stream of fallen rain
and cigarette butts
through the gutters.

Cars outside
loud, over-heating
headed toward
Midtown Detroit
or
Hades, Indiana
or
Old Port Callisto.

It didn't take her
that long to drive,
and the weather
was worth it -
even if it wasn't
verily pleasant
to live through
at the time.



~

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