Windows down the wind “ohs” the ice cut wind goes
Time is questionable and the world is left
unaware of the where and questions of the time
Absent is the presence of expectation
Necessity is present in place of absence
The life is lights and shine
Black gloss cold and cut
The road is abandoned in front of me
Forgotten in this hour
Behind me the lifeless lights of industry
blink and fill the reality
abstracted by reflection and industry
the city is asleep
lights present the illusion
“we are still here”
I am moving
wind cuts through the radio filling
void of life the road is echoing
the rush of the car and symphony
Wagner is building a nation
The soul of romantic era
romanticizing my adolescence
Blurring the separation of the road, the car, the cacophony
Blurring the lights in distance and separation
Lead me to my nation
Blur the lines of time, my presence, my purpose
Blur the road, the car, the Phillip Glass
Fill up my glass in this Beat Generation
Bring back the structure and forget the danger
No, burn the structure the danger is needed
shut off the pretense and post-modernism
In absolution we lose the reason for creation
We tangle our ego is invention, in precedent
Void the road echoes life
filling the wind with frequency and static; cut
Clear black ice
“we are still here”
illusive in the presence of light
is the city asleep
or is industry reflecting the abstract life
reality blinks and fills it
Industry is lifeless in the lights
What time is it
I am abandoned on this road
Cut and cold my gloss blackens
lights shine life’s
the place of presence
not expectation
Questions left unanswered in the space in front of me
Windows down the wind “ohs” the wind goes