by | Jul 24, 2006 | Poetry | 0 comments

My son sleeps in the cemetery;
He is innocent commentary
Against the pathwayside Power urge,
Of some Motorist’s auto-cross surge.

“My God!! I didn’t see him…”
“But I always come this way…”
“My God!! I didn’t know him…”
“I save ten minutes this way…”

My son sleeps in the cemetery,
He walked by the way and bled by the way
Painting that ‘pay-ved’ promontory:
All to save ten minutes…or so you say.


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