THE UNBEARABLE SHEERNESS OF BEING… A COMMUTER

Crashed the car and left us here…

One by one they sounded in the fog

As though incendiary Dutch raiders

Queuing up to finish the job

One by one they stopped to a thump

And the crossing cared not for their problems

And met the knights charge, with a nonchalant shrug

 

Joined in battles cars came the 100

Dawning diamonds thrown like dice

Chancing reflection, a mass exhaling of life’s hunger

A brief rising prayer of mass forgetfulness

The aroma of B pedal metal fear and pheromones

Settling soft to the swaling souls passing under.

 

Pricking their senses to the scent of release

Of spirits copping one hot second of unfiltered air

Arms Christing wide to stroke the pain

And soothe the post traumatic stress that lay

Just beneath the polished chrome surface

Misunderstood, they’d hug the lampposts if they could.

 

Dazing forth, seeking to signal an updated status

Uploading footage through sudden tears

Waving devices high to the siren balladeers

Asserting their rights as licence payers

Shaking as they have their citizen say

While only Boycie truly lived that day…