five lanes full on to hell

early Saturday morning

heading into the big city

the morning sun there somewhere

hidden behind fine mist rain curtains

rooster tails thrown up by the cars

five lanes full on to hell

suddenly a sea of red lights

& we stop

sitting there for long minutes

I turn off the engine

no silence

the whoosh of the car tyres

on the other side of the barrier

we sit checking the radio

for local station idents

hoping for a traffic alert

but no

& any screaming

is left to the internal

maybe a mute sigh

we talk softly of our plans

the time delay

& then we all start up again

slowly gaining speed

up to 20 then 30

we pass the bashed in barrier

car front end ripped off

everybody slowing to rubberneck

eye the tragedy

pictures to retell think of later

& then back up to speed

all of that is gone

left behind

on to the city now

on our five narrow lanes

heading to hell

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