Tuesday, June 5, 2012

7 Street and the 5 Freeway

The sound of a thousand hissing snakes
weaves between creaking brakes,
the audible miscellany of industry.

Insects bathed in primary colors
of various shades and dullness
cruise by, a parade contained on

ribboned strips of black and gray,
pathways from A to B and undesirable
destinations  populating in between.

Trees grow in scattered isolation,
glints of color in a place
of dreary practicality. They grow

in a jungle of hardened expectations,
caged by concrete, their roots can only
resist their capture by cracking sidewalk.

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