Traffic Surf Poem by Hans Ostrom
Traffic Surf
Car traffic tonight
2017 sounds like a metal
ocean, tires and tires
laying down bass lines.
I've never wanted
to tell a sea to shut up.
In fact I've treated
surf noise as a lullaby
composed by hubris.
Concerning this endless
traffic enjambment,
my attitude is flat,
as if an itinerant psychiatrist
had injected my
brain with novocaine and
filled my ears with alloy.
hans ostrom 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 10:49:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
