waiting at a red light
3 a.m.
with the window down
radio muted
the heat of a passing day hovering as mist above
the pitted asphalt clouding like bokeh
–
dilapidated desert streets
humming the tune of central air units and
mercury-vapor street lamps
on life support
vibrant and untouched in the palm of night
–
caught at the crossroads
staring into the searing retina of
the scarlet-eyed oppressor
while my spirit treads on to places i will never
reach
–
stuck
following the line
the curve
and realizing that they all lead to
the same place
–
stop and go
red light
green light
but so many of us
only see yellow