A Traffic Jam
A traffic jam spread on the crumpet crawling freeway
Chain of lights relay the sounds
of twilight requiem ceremony.
the cyclists cut through the lanes like phantoms
finding their war
finding their way into cold chocolate earth
and one might think these folks would be better off on elephant and donkey
But they have become obsolete,,,
so the impatient drivers wait patiently like the air inside a radiator tea kettle.
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Comments about this poem (A Traffic Jam by jerome moore )
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