Half A World


Circular lights from a cop car
flash on the underbelly of the overpass.

Classical overtures as I turn the car around
the corner.

Cool breezes from
the undertow of the evening
as my vehicle races
to escape the black that takes
over the red paint
of my vehicular body.

Mind has riddled the knots,
that ham sandwich served
me well.

Over the turns,
under the rounds,
I listen to the air conditioner bleed
as the cord on the blinds move &
the crowds laugh half a world away
in the morning that will be mine
& is theirs in the beginning.