Pinched Tail

Wild Honey

There You Stand

Garbs Of The Street

Endorphines

War Path

His Land

Madman's Cafe

Unleashed

Lord's Prayer

Show Me

Dance With Me Celts

Waiting for happiness.

Remember Me Happy

Ode To You 'Above'

Crack and Cycle Again

I Dream American, I Dream Big

A Gentle Lapping

Amidst The Moon

Anything's Better

Hector's Babe

A Man

A Simple Poem

Songs

Top Soil Lads

Ready For Attack

Rickety Steps

The Stump of a Young Tree

Un-Suspecting Love

What Does Distortion Create

Dreary Canals

Dont Touch Anything

These Shutters Are Getting Old

Great Escape

A Form of Neurosis

The Halo and the Coconut

I Future

Mood Ring

Opening the Lilies

Wake Up

Member or Guest

Short of Discovery

Cool Rails

High Up in the Mountain Tops

Synopsis of Trees

Fear The Jungle

Sorted Truth

Sit In Scorn

Trolling the Isle

Shout Out

Trouble With The Looking Glass

Italian Coffee

Bricks and Mortar

We The Living [Sacrificial Lambs]

Grasps Of Bloodshed

I Want That

Sugar Cane

Living Room

What I Have To Do

Foundation

The Rise in Fall Woolly Bear Caterpillars

Whooping Trees

Crap Shoot / Wall Climb

Sagacious Moon

Summer Heat

Morning Glory

Stop! Spontaneous

Someday They Will Be Grown

The Final Whisper

There Was But One Monkey

Turning Nothing Into A Dream

Embrace

Everything's Different

Lonely

Swat Team Manifesto

Ideas

Just Write

Cut Throat Curiosity

Pompous Observations

Dungy Rooms and Dark Alleys

The Whole Goddamn Fort Went Down

Jamil Mohammad

Waiting

Dissonant

Assumptions Closing In On Me

A Just Moment

poem id SELECT * FROM poems WHERE poem_id = '43'

DATE		Display	FALSE TRUE FALSE	Priority
Title
Body	In the dark morning The concrete streets have been curved by years of Abuse by heavy buses. Causing the streets edges to look like rails From the glimmering lights. These Trains on wheels ride those rails All night. The drivers of these trains have The patience of a Buddhist. They drive looking in all directions, Checking mirrors, missing sign posts By inches. Never wavering from the site Of the two rails directly in front. They can drive fast past a school bus And not even nip a mirror. They are clocked and timed, hawked and Hovered by business men in suits With nothing better to do than to arbitrarily Regulate and de-regulate. But the bus drivers drive on. Watching for people and flaming dumpsters That are thrown into the street at them. And their diligent drivers drive on The cool rails of the dark morning.
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