Bad News Traffic


by Eric Dodson

Sideways golden light, lawn lines, tree shadows,
scattered leaves, almost dewy,
lines of traffic from roadway bad luck,
strong need to urinate,

Random tree limbs, rolls of hay,
perky jazz, 
puffs of exhaust, 
golden light glistening through bottled water,
tobacco puffs from truck windows, Hammond B going wild, 
silhouettes and shadows of undercarriages, 

some naked, others not quite yet,
glow through rust-orange leaves from a not-so-distant star,
no alternate route, 
worn signs designating
fiber optic cable lines,
not large enough for my traversal,
linear parking lot of people not making friends with one another,
separated by glass and steel and plastic,
and worlds,
thin spider web lines stretched across downed tree limbs,
Miles runs the voodoo down,

Concrete strips with vent pipes protruding from the ground,
textured building facades catching and blocking 
rays of light,
mounds of mulch 
built up like volcanoes
hiding barky outbursts frozen in time,
trees and sign posts leaning together 
at sympathetic angles,

Light pole twins cast in long lines 
across parking lots,
signs with arrows, 
and slash marks showing what not to do,
dangling camera orbs silently watching over our plight,
train creeps past below,
with more lines of traffic, 
but theirs are moving somewhat,

Drive over the bridge, 
hazy suburban cityscape in the distance, 
vehicles glistening from afar 
as dancing diamond dewdrops.

Shadow finally grows larger on the wall in front of me.
Must stop vehicle.

(photo by Eric Dodson)

Categories: Poetry, Visual