Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Don’t get me wrong

I don’t have a problem with roads per se
It’s just I hate them

roads give me rage

how they pick up their skirts

and head off for somewhere specified
or unspecified with a sway of the hips

and a whistle on their asphalt lips

and their sensible signage for crying out loud

plus there’s the habit they have
of pointing to the squeaky clean future one way
and the horny old past the other way

the way they swerve or go straight on
or hang a left or a right or go up or go down

or go over bridges or through tunnels
as though butter wouldn’t melt

in fact pull over road you old bastard
I’m giving you a goddam ticket

 

← Mark Waldron