Wrong Side

Mike Bell/ May 17, 2016/ www.mikebellpoems.com/ 0 comments

Let me try to explain
what my life dictates:
I’m driving
on the wrong side,
where I have to think,

again, no usual moves,
re-school my reactions,
to get by,
to cruise,
on new-normal functions;

my engine,
a metaphor,
without lubrication,
add lack of sat-nav,
and tail-backed impatience.

Let me maintain
this license, still free,
allowing me to drive,
wrong-sided,
slowed speed.

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