I-94
When I’m on the highway and pass other people in their cars, I always imagine that they are brief poems - so far from me in their compact metal planetary systems. I just passed a lady that looks like she’s sitting in Mars. Then another comes on some comet shooting by. Then I pass another on the left – is that an old satellite he’s sitting on? One can only guess. Everyone rides in their own meaning.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
ah, but they also ride in the meaning you give them. very telling.
ReplyDeleteI love this--I've been wanting to write little brief creative nonfiction-type thoughts--kind of like Deep Thoughts with Jack Handy, but not funny or ironically deep.
ReplyDeleteMadden--maybe we can declare May National Creative Nonfiction Month? Eh?