Driving through the darkness
The Wendy's bag
On the side of the road
Can start to look
A bit like roadkill-
Which it is
In a way,
Because no matter
How many broken people
I cram into the front
Seat of my car
And no matter
How many cigarettes
They've all been smoking
The blindness
And the landfills
Which push the rich
Further North of the city
Will continue to push