Beauty in my review mirror
Squinting nonchalant into the sun
Friday
5 o’clock traffic
Head cocked in half thought
Lips shaping the lyrics to some song
Beauty but a bumper away
Shifting lanes
Parts the pestilential smog
Drifts indifferent
through scorned swarms
Tousled hair haloed in the blaze
Serenity sweeping
through August apocalypse
Framed where
(just a moment before)
A haggard woman had stalled
Fag snared in grimace
Fake nails drumming choruses
of radio ditties on an aluminium door
The pleasures of falling and flight.