Life in the Crosswalk
Working a thumbling of clay,
world’s worth of geometry,
imagining the yellow stripes as
stone walls but you
trust overly much.
Social compacts work until they
kill you, better a lightfoot dodger,
midstream stone-hopper.
In fact
Ditch the dinosaurs altogether.
Cultivate your blisters,
run roughshod where the
rainfall fingers your tracks.
Scale the promontory,
eat up the vastliness,
pillows of green begging
you to keep on, keep on.
One day you will press that
button for hours, unaware that
the signal has been banished,
that Darwin has finally won out.
From the collection Fields of Satchmo
Photo by MJV
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