Shell gas station with little neon green palm trees
perched upon the edge of the frenzied freeway,
          a picture of plastic paradise
     strewn with bright green lights
     like spotlights of limelight
     shedding light upon city life
               never far from the dark side...
    
     nearby, I spy
an assortment of street signs
to guide you into the night,
     so turn right, & drive right
     fly past the stoplight
     into the glare of red light
          & beware the districts of night life

Roads keep on teaching us new lessons in violence,
rage is the law ruling the perfectly chaotic traffic
you are left to fend yourself in this murky waters
where killer whales celebrate the success of  blood thirst.

Men who don't properly breath are atrocious on roads
behind the wheels,they jump signals, break rules
as if their poor mamas made them promise to do all this!
a law  to send such cases to yoga class would do good.
But women with bad driving skills as their assets for life
are no less, in making our lives on each journey miserable

In a road where with impunity, suicide squads operate
your poetic musings, will have to stop, to remain alive.

Just then a police car with a roar stop in my front
authority makes me weary but the cop  behind the wheels
a woman, tells me the story of beauty than a cop's authority
on how beauty softens heat that makes muscles go stiff
She springs out of the cabin of the vehicle she is in
making ripples feminine and also ease in the air.

violence of the machines and the minds in controlling,
speed, broken rules and the thrill of chasing criminals
beauty which brings a change where it is out of place almost.

As I drift in to sleep, after a long drive safe,and few stiff drinks
in my dream's window she sits winking,'drive safe all through life'
"Good by my good cop"I whisper "be soft and right,authority is mess"

89.2

An animal that was there all along
is recently discovered,
recognized for behaviour now considered odd.
A lizard sheds it's skin to avoid predators.

101.89

So what constitutes a mass,
the accumulation, or the loss?

We continue to find faults of our own in order
to forgive the faults of others and their own.
Justice is when everyone is a victim.

To dilute the issue, to divide the tissue
is the diplomacy a broken line speaks in equal measure.

92.16

Children of immigrants
dust off their melanin when it trends

Pain fabricated as public art
as an act of instigating peace
as if war were not reason enough

static

the wound is not lost though the skin changes

predators and victims and recently discovered animals
share station on the radio

As wheels
spinning in traffic

Stuck in traffic,
On my way home,
Baby wait for me,
You won't be lonely anymore,

Stuck in my mind,
Is your smile and laugh,
I'm burning in my heart,
Can't wait to be in your arms,

Staring at the tail lights,
Wish I was in a truck in front of mine,
Minutes feel like a day and night,
And I can't wait for that greenlight.

Woke up this morning with a screaming headache
It’s 6am and I have to be at work by 8am
Feeling like I didn’t get enough sleep but have I ever?
Say a short prayer, that should make it all okay
I clean up as fast as I can,
but not without hurting my gums while brushing
Maybe once I had something to eat, it would all be better
Opened the fridge and the crate of egg falls off, Hol’up
I wanted scrambled eggs but not in this manner for sure
Aaahhh, I need some tea even though coffee would be ideal
But I did run out yesterday. Sigh.
Water’s boiling and I’m trying to get some of it into a cup
But the kettle cover falls off and the hot water spills on my hands
Burning me; today surely isn’t my day is it?
Tea’s ready, but I’m running late now, so I’m taking it to work
Got into the car, humming a feel good tune and sipping tea
Returning the cup to the holder now and again
Then I hit an unfortunate gallop, and the tea spills all over the car
It’s exactly 7.30am and my whole day looks like the mess in the car
I get to the office, couldn’t clean up the car, traffic enroute, made sure
I was more than 5 minutes late; I sign the register before the lateness line
Is ruled; something relatively good yeah? Yeah?
I’m walking to my office door, and somehow the key to my office breaks as I’m
Trying to open the door, no kidding.
They say they will fix it later and I pitch in one of the other empty offices
I’m on my desk, slow day so not much to do
Loud crashing sound, I’m awake and hurting on the office floor
Cos apparently I dosed off and fell off my chair
It’s not until break time and even more, the absurd amusing gazes I’m getting
That I realize I’m wearing different legs from two different shoes colored differently
And of cos my pants got torn at the back from the fall earlier.
Imagine how I looked and to think the day was only half spent.
Where could I have possibly gone wrong today?!

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.