commerce east to downtown

the cop has his hand
resting on his pistol
as he asks for
license and registration
it feels gratuitous
as i watch from
between clear rainbows
as the wipers sway
to human cannonball
i wonder if today
is the day a stray slug
does what i am too
stubborn to do myself
hating the excitement
permeating the fog
filling my hollow skull
the fountains are running
as the rains pour down
and if that doesn’t sum up
the randomness buried
in the unbearable weight
of pointless existence
then i don’t know what does
maybe that’s the issue
everything reflects
the pathetic need to assert
some sort of control over
the randomness of life
i tire of rolling this
fucking boulder uphill
day in and day out
as the cop draws his piece
pointing it in the window
at the scared looking kid
on the exit ramp to commerce
i hold my breath waiting for
cordite and winter rain to
fill the void momentarily
as we roll on indifferent
imagining crimson running
down the gutters as those
goddamned fountains spray

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