daily commute.

shells of cars, we are the machines.
our brains are our bodies.
we reflect, shine , scratch, and smash our surfaces.
we work in unison and gather at stop lights
and parking lots.

red light, green light. games of letting go and stoping behind each other
ready to pulse forward
and passing in and out of lanes
blink, blink

shells of cars, we are the machines
fuel costing, dashes and white borders to stay in.
separate. lined up. moving like caravans of ants high above

stray and smash.
another dollar bill, another dead brain.
automated, airbagged and electrified our bodies
become flashy and sleek.

brains wired and remote controlled to
telephone poled street lines
and artificial pine forests constrain our movement
and freedom.

shells of cars, we are the machines.