THE GM HIGHWAY

The facts pile up,
Seep through
From underneath:
The discarded,
Raw,
And indigestible,
Incomprehensible,
Beyond the imagination,
Growing uglier
By the day,
Unloved
And uncared for,
Offensive to the eyes,
Ears and nose,
Troublesome to the extreme,
Unpleasant and dangerously
Threatening,
Ill-natured,
Unattractive
And morally revolting,
The facts thrown at them from afar,

She sifts through her nervous system,
In their haven from public bluntness, 

On the brink of hospitalisation,

She sits the Pre-GM Sit, strained,
In their private sphere, unknown, 

GM Highways connecting spaces,

Unspoilt, of unsurpassed beauty.
They’re driving along the Highway, 

Her kinky juxtapositions dumped

Along the way, using the Arteries
To the Institution of Dualistic Intent, 

More like home,
She likes best 

A friendly smile,
From somebody, 

And plagued
By uncertainties, 

Here,
Meals cooked,

Served, washed up,
Put away, 

As regular
As clockwork, 

And don’ts,
Timetabled dos, 

And where,
On time, 

In neat columns,
Have-dones, when. 

She smiles
A modified smile, 

GM Highways
Connecting spaces of 

Unsurpassed
Beauty, 

While yesterday,
Tomorrow, 

In a forgotten universe,
On a future planet, 

In another time zone,
Children run about, 

Laugh out aloud,
And play. 

jeltje fanoy

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