traffic sun
- Yongle Voynich
- Oct 20, 2024
- 1 min read
little tick tocks of time
butterflies flapping their
kaleidoscopic wings
stagger out and
beyond the
window where
glass reflects
all the tarnished silver and
concrete of each building
each sliver of life
behind other panes
other souls: a hundred
a thousand, a million
in this jungle of lampposts
and telephone lines
of wires and forgotten
shoe laces, tied up into
a string, so many nikes and
reeboks reaching up into a
sweltering balloon:
the smog reddened sun
out of the window
of my car
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