Driven
We've been driving in the fast lame
getting nowhere
lining up for paper rolls
and setting our feet to roads
without fulfillment.
And then there were the stores
of things
that clung to us
weighed us down
filled our hearts with nothing.
We tripped thinking we had it all
the dream
the life
the stuff of pride.
We had more than we bargained for
percentages and minimums and
things that wouldn't leave
for years to come.
This street lined with timber
and kindling.
That street ghosted out
of buildings and machines.
We whispered about
the other side of the tracks
then we came to them
we found a mirror there
we stood across from ourselves
and pointed in.
2 comments:
One thing I enjoy about your poetry is the way you insert words I forget to use. Often the words are ordinary non-pretentious efficient conveyers of efficient communication, words like fulfillment. I have a tendency to wade unnecessarily through the abstractness of language rather than communicating simply and effectively. I am too preoccupied dragging the listener on my personal journey.
I absolutely love your unexpected use of lame.
I feel very strongly that our consumer-driven society is on the wrong road.
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