backstreets driving

crisp morning air
bright spring sun
i start my car early
and make my way through the quiet streets
although the morning rush
is beginning to throb
the commuters
loooters
winners and losers
writers and bikers
sinners
lovers
fakers
are all beginning their days
in their own little world
and with no sounds in the red machine
my mind is free to wander
and take in the the majesty of creation
in all its sensuous glory
the green of the grass
the clunk and grind of the engine beneath me
happy people
sad people
resigned faces worked resoultly to their station
the office has become the new trench
our duty
for queen and country
for mortgage and credit and car loan
for someones future but not my own
boys on bikes
girls in skirts
ipods and iboxes and music machines
everywhere
clogging ears
with a secret soundscape
changing for how we feel
changing what we see
oh the beauty of music
to inspire
move
trouble and confuse us
enlighten
restore
but my car is silent
and i arrive
ready for anything
anyone
any who ha
so i turn on my computer and write to you
and listen to...

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