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Click hereIt all starts with one line
one pictograph, one image.
Floating through my head
like story-boarded thoughts in a traffic jam.
The lights are all green
so no one gets to go,
and the intersections are piles of shattered steel.
The gridlock continues well past 2am
until the city/I has/have swept away this mess,
and the one car/thought that took the back roads
reaches it's destination.
So here is the one wise thought/car
with the foresight to understand
just how fucked up my mind/city really is...
...cellar door...
...(sigh)...
I'm of two minds on this, with the second half of the poem displaying car/thought // city/mind. On the one hand, I would have preferred it to have been kept clean with references only to thoughts and mind and not using the slashes. On the other had, as presented, it does wonderfully support that line about how fucked up your mind really is. Interesting style.