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