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Road Works

15 May
Road Works

It’s Spring

It’s road work time

Potholes that mysteriously opened up

In secret

In the dark of winter

Stealthily, silently,

Hungry to devour the traffic

Then, come the sunshine

Warm days

The men

The manymanymany men

Their machines

and noise and shovels

and smell of hot tar

But you never see them

working

only talking

on their phones

to each other

peering at the road

pondering  the holes

Scratching their chins,

their asses

Thinking

Talking

Debating

The meaning of holes

How does the work ever get done?

Is it magic?

They toil away, unappreciated, unnoticed

And one day, hey, honey did you see?

And life is like that

You can figure this out

Life’s potholes

Somehow

they all mend

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted by on May 15, 2016 in poetry, Uncategorized

 

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