Poem
Surreal Twilight Journey (Deceased Poets)
Cars in motion on a road without end, potholes in the pavement, lives paved over—toward me. Heads suspended in the void, moving inert through space, breathing with fear, silently gazing at me. Midnight poets in the swamp’s mist, drenched in darkness, prosing life by moonlight, reciting love. Deceased poets— profane words within me.