Hours behind a stopped wheel, thinking, passing on time
Reeling over slanderous posts that hold up the mind
Watching bodies float from metal heaps to clang bars
Light reflections bounce from blinding hoods
Windows glaze; night comes earlier than it should
The desire to move makes a painful start
Anxious as the firs turn dark
Like shadows of Bigfoot on his mark
Officer's circle in crowned white toys
People stare and smoke and call
Exercise their right to stall as
Jacked up rides bounce out their noise
More boys pass with a grin and a nod
They are checked by a pin, say "Thanks again!"
Some beg for a spot and I wonder
how often they step back in.
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