a life might catch some better luck
to feed the streets of choice
who wants to drive old Cadillacs
junked Bentley or Rolls-Royce
it needs more horses under hood
more juice to cover thirst
at times when ways don’t give a hoot
and words are weak at first
it meant to swing from side to side
avoiding traffic jam
around the holes in one heart wide
and bumps from Uncle Sam
behind the wheel keep checking breaks
arranging stops and pace
you buckled up and for God’s sake
don’t give a damn for race
a crafty factory of cells
a body has no spares
the finish line will suit all well
who doesn’t care or cares
a life might catch some better luck
to feed the streets of choice
some try to beat in vain the clock
with making most of noise
May 6, 2018