all these stories
i read them…
pause in the middle
of the road
to notice the caution sign

turning cars approach
from all directions
i wonder
where are the exclamation points, periods, and paranthesis?

i find
these neglected words
dismiss traffic signs
thickly settled, a clue
to, too many people
tracing the same thick yellow line
replacing them with broken hash marks
where passing allowed
accidents happen

poets are drivers, see
fast and frantic
long-winded roads
too traveled to make a difference

Poetry anxiety depression dreamscapes listening well lost meaning of life suffering this writing life too many words who am I