Traffic Light

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



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

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