morning commute
down desolation highway
an overabundance of gray
drowning the dim light
to a sullen spark
in sleepy forney

a small town
set too close to
the ravenous beast
of the metroplex
an infrastructure
built for farming
now overly congested
with angry worker ants
lined up in misery
to serve their queen

a distillation of
dismality driving down
a frontage road lined
with slumbering semis
as the sparrows hop
in front of a fool
fed up with false facades
fiending for a fix
to be fixed
to be

enough