Thursday, January 14, 2010


The car is racing
away from me.
I am running after
this driver-less vehicle.
My old Pontiac Le Mans.

I am awakened from
this sub-conscious riddle.
Is Pontiac my Poetry?

If conscience,
'makes cowards of us all'.
Then my valiant sub-conscience
jolts me as to my
plight as an artist.

To pursue my goal;
Poetic verse as poetry.

I will keep running after
that car, my destiny.
When I catch car;
My goal or my death?


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