Graffiti

Click, clack, whir, whir, whir...

vibrating, deafening,

a roaring black monster

tearing past.

Faster, and faster still,

eyes crossed,

attempting to read

the prophetic graffiti

as it screams by.

If only this beast

would slow it's progress

long enough for me

to make heads or tails.

Looming large,

swooping small,

the words and pictures

in brilliant hues

or stark white against the dark

leave me spellbound.

Stories from a thousand miles afar...

graffiti signatures

of vagabond want to be's.

I feel it..

the lure, the pull.

I too wish to jump aboard.

And leave behind a little...

graffiti of my own.

 

 

Reviews

[Dani]

Heh. Everyone has to leave their mark, eh?
It makes me think of historical sites; my heart breaks for them when I see hundreds of names carved into the wood and stone, one after another. It's like a constantly progressing domino effect of random signatures.

This is a great poem, thank you for sharing it :)