highway

i ride the city's veins
glaze-eyed and mildly organic
along these pulsing channels of metal blood.
and i don't believe them, no
i think all the red lights are pretending
glowing bright duplicity in the dusk
of tiled tunnels. am i the city? no!
not for these many years; what is?
and what are you?
astride these asphalt arteries
we err, imagine one another
and this endless stream of glowing red
to be what lives much, much longer.
nevermore: i'll see but cells tomorrow,
glaze-eyed and mildly organic,
riding the old city's veins.




12/2/08
1/29/08