The Only Time That I Can Free Myself from Humanity's Sluggishness

The torpid pace of social movement,
Sometimes forward, often back,
Infuriates me. By and large, my
Fellow bipeds think too slowly,
Act too slowly, show excessive
Deference to criminals and sundry
Scum. They cherish what is without
Reason, fearing change of any sort,
And there's no way that I or anybody
Else can better them. I long ago lost
Hope of trying. Now, I only move
Myself. I take my motorcycle
To 140, -50, -60, threading madly
Through the slugs who stick close
To the posted speeds. The species
Seems to cherish torpor. When I'm
Riding, I don't mind. I barely notice
How they dawdle as I hurtle by.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 31 times
Written on 2021-03-11 at 22:06

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