by August 8, 2013 0 comments

Clenched hands
on the steering wheel
in a loud clamor
animated in traffic
unrewarding views
of wreckage
during a heavy curtain
of thunder and rain
blown away
by horns
with two of us
in the breakdown lane
the wind pushing us
by the doors
of road rages
dazzling the window
like fire dances
flashes by us
at the happy hour
of assured accidents
in pure frenzy
no shadows carefree
in a monster storm
over zig zag highways
striking down
as water rises
by the dashboard
of speechless time.

editors note:

It’s the relative rage o’ the road we travel – collisions happen in a wink and no repairs last forever. – mh

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