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Voyeurism on the Open Road

 

A million worlds

Of plastic and aluminium

Portals of glass, barely open to each other…

 

What does he think about,

Alone in his nervous, silent realm?

And that one, so carefree

As to dance, wild,

To his unfashionable music,

Neither hand too long on the wheel;

He is so fascinating.

And there, that child, face flattened

Against the clear edge

Of her mobile jellybean universe—

What does she see

Outside her faux-leather upholstered refuge

Through her innocent, curl-wreathed eyes?

 

What are all of we,

As we roll ourselves to less interesting destinations?

 

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Copyright ©2000 Adam Rutledge