August 26, 2011

Rush hour

driving home at half speed.
a power line stretched across
the highway.
birds perched lazily
in a dot, dot, dash formation.
are they trying to tell me something?

1 comment:

  1. Ten years down the road
    What will we have to show?
    Except a few empty words and hollow songs
    Big slogans and catchy tunes
    Are all well meaning schemes
    But it's up to us to live our dreams

    Dot-Dot-Dash
    I'm calling out an S.O.S.
    Are we a threat?
    Or is our revolution dead?

    Out of touch but I still believe
    So where does that leave me?
    Searching for a method to all this madness
    Do the answers even exist?

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