Sunday, September 2, 2012

Asphalt Sybil

Here lies,
cracked and patched
and cracked again,
the asphalt's broken Sibyl.

Her prophecies unheeded
by the king and senators
and by a million
bone tired feet,

she is bleeding
pearly gasoline
that stains
the melting snow.

Mumbling softly
in the distance
while you sleep,
O traveller, or try to,

her auguries hiss
like the sea
and, like the sea,
never cease.

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