There is
roadkill on the street, bloody
bones and fur, asphalt
doesn't care.
In my car
I'm just another
pair of eyes, just something
driving on by, but
the way the air hangs today,
the way I can
taste something in it, something
so old, even ancient, but
still familiar...
I am there
in the street, open and
trying to be pure, society
doesn't care.
