Poem: Busy Street

 

Busy Street

 

crosscurrents 

of stubborn, clogged rubber.

 

to pull a smile out of a face

is to yank the nerves of a marionette. 

 

the seethe of the similar

would reduce even a poet

to a parrot stanchioned 

in these asphalt lines.

 

the only bits of truth,

twitches in cheek or brow,

come and go like minnows,

scattering from deep sea jaws ... 

 

...  fallen ... 

into the steadfast norm.

culture fashion human engine

crammed into the same.

the same.

 

the same four-letter alphabet.

the same monosyllabic stress.

 

what a spectacle,

so many mechanized cowls:

face, throat, tongue, heart,

 

mind.

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7/19/25 .. . attempts were made