Motion

The sensors are on,
there are cops standing
next to their motorcycles

with radar guns fixed
on me. They all clock

me at zero miles
an hour. I’m laying
on the yellow dashed

line, curled into a strange
question mark. This still

body is misleading, I am
moving a million miles an hour.

3 Comments

Filed under Musings, poetry

3 responses to “Motion

  1. Thank you both so much

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