i ease my brakes to exit
gravity push me to my seat
enough force to keep inlane
without lifting or careening
seven lights to big store
spaced between needs
for comfort or for request
why these sports cars reeves
when they look at you; show off
i have to watch that rice burner
behind me, yes they're silent
recently, i wonder which is true
their black box save their behind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem