Freeway

A driver sees not so much traffic as an industrial nightmare

In the freeway dusk,
Ribbons of molten light
Snake swiftly
Out of sight,
Flowing through freeway nights
As bright red weals of fire unfurled,
Around and round a gasping world.

Shimmering metallic ants
Rush through the freeway morning crush,
Then crawl beneath the city’s heights,
Sliced by their endless appetites.

They disappear into vaporous smog,
Are fed another layer of ancient logs,
Only to return in force
Upon their endless freeway course.

Freeway days and freeway nights,
Expanding out like endless blight
Until at last I wake in fright.
Just a nightmare,
She’ll be right.