Toronto is a huge city interlaced with freeways that slumbers fitfully on this early Sunday morning as I begin my four plus hour drive home after a long day and evening of conferencing Saturday 

0530 Sunday



0530 Sunday Stygian 

Street lamps cheerless 

Black freeway ribbon 

A deserted thesis

To arterial flow upon

Which a metropolis 

Is fuelled with human

Corpuscles mindless

In need of satiation

Now last bedded whilst

In their soulless stations

They recharge by rest

Twice in seven

To once again coalesce 

Becoming then the leaven

On this black sleek egress

Another round of oblivion

Five days of gray production

Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 30 times
Written on 2023-01-23 at 16:30

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Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Getting started at 3.30am is hard
Having someone driving nose to tail no street lights.
Thought to hell with this if he wants to overtake,
Use the other lane. Sod this I thought,
I'm sticking to the speed limit.
Suddenly his flashing lights came on and he over took.
So much for a quiet drive home,
oh well only another 350 miles to go.
I know how you feel. Regards Alan.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I thought that I was the only one who brooded so on desolate drives. Nicely done, Joe.