Wednesday, February 19, 2014

A CLEVER MECHANSIM

Isn't it funny? Whenever—
the sun 

begins—in your mind
to shimmy 

and shed its daffy salutation
down 

solely—over the highway 
on which your now-

glinting gold 
car continues to glide—how 

the music 
you're hearing sounds 

like it's all—effortlessly
right 
on your side—and how, somehow  

that fine 
sporty 
mind of yours just

doesn't think 
to abide—any frustration! 

whatso-
ever—in seeing 

such incredible 
piles of self-
similar cars—so long, that is

as they're 
not 
all lined-

up 
on the 
same shiny—side of the median!

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