THE CYCLO DRIVER

He’s thin to the bone with eyes of steel
driving through the war counting money.
Fumes stain his skin and heart. No trust
death lust

He waits for me to sit.
the chair that goes everywhere
An alley to home or an alley to death
Surprised to see the next sunrise

A conscientious objector mixes with
a fuel injector. No time. We’re moving to fast.
Does he die, or do I ?
Who and where am I ?

If you’re not a killer, you will die for your belief,
live and evolve, and believe in survival.
Hate and energy builds
Riding on the wheels of death

I will jump and stop the motion.
He will die as the wheels spin.
He will die, and I will cry.
I know who I am forever now.

A right turn and then a left
shortcuts to fear enough to kill a man
I see my home far down the street.
We both will live in this hot and humid heat.

Death of innocence