02311b Morning View Poem by Manonton Dalan
02311b Morning View
orange cones guarding my way
some with beacons blinking at me
pot holes dotted like polka dots
my shocks screaming for relief
so as my back an instant massage
i rather go slow; surrender to pain
uphill a strong propane smell
it's been there for years as well
plus coal trains chugging to chacha
ain't going anywhere like wakawaka
those will end up in country, china
they makes everything for mama
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6/10/2026 7:13:57 AM # 1.0.0
