this road shines
as broken windows scream our names under semi-atomic streetlights

caught one last time giving bad directions to beat-up cars
                                                  driving down beat-up sidewalks

& as pedestrians, like spider webs get caught in
                            the crossfire of the ages,

only an echo remains
of a former time complaining
of a better daze left waiting
in a room without a viewing
pleasure mixed with painless
complexities restraining

                        a madness that is now gone..