“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label in line. Show all posts
Showing posts with label in line. Show all posts
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Traffic at the Top of Privledge
It seems to be moving
along quicker now.
I am not switching-indecisiveness
is dangerous.
It's slow enough to look
out the windows
and get a sense of where you are
and all that is out there.
Not where you are going,
but passing through, some seem stalled-
but you're no expert.
That one exit is always jammed
and the line continues to grow-
no matter what time.
They creep, and honk; impatient to arrive.
It does not make it faster
and they act as if already too late
to gather any remaining free gifts, you keep what you reap
(and much more).
It will be nearly over when they arrive.
Everyone who invites themselves knows it
is all in their honor.
The new King and Queen of Entitlement will be crowned!
Dunces of Deservitude!
I've never been invited, or dropped in on one of these
formal functions
where some super special ones are showered with interest,
and accrue an air of finality and justice in their grandiloquence.
You have passed them.
They are driving their Destinies, exiting
into Karma town, talking on their iWant and
counting all the righteous people ahead of them.
Image by Marjory Collins, Traffic Jam 1943 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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