On Hotrod Bend Poem by Martin Lochner

I face twilight traffic with big yellowed eyes
a flickering herd of diesel approaching

solid white lines and shrivelled feelings
fight off enthusiasm to be a tarmac matador

eight valves of lorry rage closes in
bull bars, galvanised, chromed
for the storming kill

futile fight of ill fated tears and hurt
rolling, searing eyes burning acid

closing vision of mangled certainties
on hotrod bend

angry bulls on their horns
stopping
bulking

“get the hell off the road’



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