Open the doors and purge
The stream of bleary people
A flood, pressing for escape
The eternal escape
And fighting the belated urge
To run

times square envies a girl like you.
i mean, who wouldn't?
you've got it all.
a voice that the wealthy would do
anything to hear echo in theaters
and skin like expensive
museum paintings.

let's run into traffic together so
we can see who makes it out alive.
i want you to show my hands
the speed bumps on your hips
and tangled skyscrapers in your hair.
you know me, i've always been
this reckless, if not more.

we'll chain-smoke all our dreams
into reality, and all our fears
into each other. the city belongs
to people like us.

the turn signal forgets its duty
withdraws the promise of passing
making new rules in an ocean
of pavement and speed limits

where workers claim their land
with reduced lanes and inconvenient hours
their camaraderie drowns out the disappointment
of drivers who left their homes too late
dragging their shadows to
what must be indecent times
in the work space

they slow their speed to a whisper
and attack the horn like a beast
upon its prey
reveling in the language of anger
charged with excessive fury
raising a sermon to command people
who cannot hear the voices
too small to leave the confinement
of their vehicles

I stood at the street corner under the blistering heat, waiting for the bus to arrive.
I'm not even supposed to be out today, I thought, but I hate to be stuck at home on a dismal Wednesday.

I left the house wearing my Jurassic Park shirt not knowing where I was headed, then decided coffee was always a good idea.
After months of forbidding it, I permitted myself to peer into the corners of my memory and recall the name of that quaint little coffee place you used to work at.
'The service here is amazing, ain't it?'
'You should let other people tell you that.'
'Well, it pays to be courteous.'
Thinking of you seems to be harmless now.

Sweat started to trickle down my nape. The cars were at a standstill. I assumed the stoplight was broken until it turned green and cars started to speed past me. Out of habit, I checked the plate of every white sedan that passed by, in hopes of seeing yours. The light turned red again.

I could see the bus from where I stood. I scanned cars that didn't even remotely resemble yours. For a split-second, I thought I caught a glimpse of the familiar rickety white auto. Don't be stupid, I reminded myself.

The light went green. I saw that I had made no mistake. It's him. My insides went numb.

I struggled to keep a straight face; to remain as stoic as I was seconds ago, but I could feel my expression betray me for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away. The sedan passed and I could almost swear it slowed down as it drove by me.

I couldn't even tell if it was really you in the driver's seat. I remember often complaining about your windows being too tinted. I tried not to grin at the memory.

When you had passed, I allowed myself one last glance at the plate, and then you were gone.

Thoughts competed for a spot in my head. Did he see me? Did he recognize me? Was he with anyone? Where was he going?

Was it even real?

The bus honked louder and snapped me out of my daze. I got on.

• • •

I was sprawled on the couch with a book on my lap, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the phone. What was left of my sanity argued that you had no reason to reach out. Still, I waited.

At this point, I was drenched in flashbacks of what was, and it all feels like it was only a dream. I was in the passenger seat of your car again, my eyes half-lidded, classical music on the radio; and through my peripheral, I could see the sunlight hitting your face, and I had never seen anything so captivating. The reality of you seems to have come out of a novel - arriving at the most unforeseen time and staying only for as long as the Universe grants. A mirage, in every sense of the word. I wondered if any of it happened at all.

The phone rang.

The monotony of life
Repetition
Repetition
Repetition

As crazy as it sounds
It gives me purpose
When I steal
A moment for myself
To enjoy my hobbies
It increases my appreciation

I do love what I do
Which helps
With motivation
Of my...
Repetition
Repetition
Repetition

Waking up
To the sounds of my alarm
Shower
Eat
Traffic
Work
Supper
Sleep
Pressing repeat
5 days a week

I find meaning
In what I do
An inviting challenge
Each day
Bringing new layers
Varied scenarios  
Frequently hectic
Sometimes stressful
Often...
Repetition
Repetition  
Repetition

Still...
Always a fresh day

Perhaps...
To some
I hop along
In the dull clouds of life

While, I find
I swim along
In my stream of stability

Jl 2016

I have changed.
Newer colors from my inner light.
Count these colors…at the end of
My rainbow… A heart of gold is in sight.
I may not be accepted into many lanes of social traffic.
So, I continue an enjoyable ride to
Where I shall be clearly seen and finally have a pit stop and enjoy some limited moments of social interactions.
Then I’m off and going with the other faceless drivers trucking their goods to those who understand the boxed tricks.
To a waved message along my way down life’s sometimes lonely highway.
I enjoy the sights along my way.
Fake historic landmarks might be shortly breath taking..
However, my truer trip takes to the better city attractions…..
The true structures in life’s light in the road that ends from some faceless traffic.
I see your meaning and learned from the lessons taught well.
Later on, I shall be the teacher and the newest of brighter attractions… Pennies for my thoughts?
After the millions of writings are bought.
A millionaire shall I be in my well earned heaven.
Never,hastily, choosing the quick and easy fix and route to hell.

Making all the small mistakes,
we move on, from one gig to another,
with our head up-high,
and our ear glued to the railroad track.
We walk backwards, surrounded by defective traffic signals
and multi-toned car horns – an impersonal Trojan toy horse,
with too much space inside our frameless carcass
to be filled by an empty soul.