POEM: 24/7 on I-75 — Owed To Trafficking Noise

24/7 on I-75
Only herd
In the
Quiet scarce
With the engines of
Racing vicious cycles
In know way asking, “who cars?”
As you whirr
The buzz of the high way
The humdrum of civilization
The muffled rumble of
trucking along
For what too commute
A bird’s eye spew
Of see oh too
Few
Know reason
Fore petroleum free way

This poem blends the high octane themes of noise and petroleum .  I typically notice the rumble of traffic in the morning as I am waking up and lying in bed.  This reminds me that really doesn’t exist in urban settings; we just tune out background noises during the of our daze.  Passing my one-year anniversary without a car, I find automobiles and traffic increasingly alien to my preferred modes of being.  Someday, I to live some place where deep is easily accessible.  I suspect that the leisurely whispers of may be best designed and intended for lovers of .  As it stands, the earth seems more populated by riotous dudes.   May you find the silent spaces in your full, filling.

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