Version One:

I’m stuck in traffic.
I’ve moved two feet in five minutes.
Construction is everywhere and nothing looks better built.
It’s raining.
Is that hail?
What’s the best detour?
Can I bypass this madness?
this congestion?
this maze?
Totally. Stuck.
Argh and blech.

 

Version Two:

Pull back the shade.
Look up.

 

Take note.
Touch.

 

Cold glass jolted my fingers awake;
they remembered what I’d forgot –
being focused on gridlocks and bottlenecks
and the signs that perpetually re-route –
and ignited the rest of my senses like dominos in decline
up and down my spine.

First kisses,
near misses,
motorbikes,
and tangled kites,
tadpoles and key lime rind
flashed like photos in my mind –
electrified and changed –
though nothing’d rearranged

look up

look up

look up.

In whatever the mess, look up.

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