Hit Me

He wanders down the dashed white line

Feet following the thick stripes

Arms limp he stumbles along

 

Wondering which car will strike him first

Here in traffic he has no control

He had no idea he was here

His eyes opened to find this dilemma

 

The breeze pulls in two directions

One yellow and one red

And he’s caught in the middle

Half a pack of cigarettes

In his system and nothing else

 

When he feels at home at work

 And at work at home

It’s the same as walking through traffic

Wondering which car will hit him first

01/05/2013

0331

Reviews

[masqued_muse]

Yes you are on the edge, Z. But it is here where you find the mania of color to express. You do it so well.

[.]

What a painful dilemma! The imagery is stark and startling! I felt the pain of the narrator extremely powerfully. Superbly written, my friend.