not alone in this haze of
apocalyptic brake-lights but I
feel like it, a little, shut off and
screaming kind of softly waiting for notice to be taken
and I don't know what's wrong with me
keep smiling, he keeps smiling
at me like he grins at everyone, sort of
disconcerting and I wish I knew what was going on
maybe I always knew - there are
pairs and there are groups and then
there's me, just a little bit lonely
and maybe a little bit sad but altogether
quite all right, watching red diffuse in
colloid-soft night air
if only . . . but I never felt quiet and
angry at once, why them, why them
and never me
I wish -
stop smiling.
never entirely alone with these
apocalyptic brake-lights but
Lord knows
I feel like it