#203 (drones)


of early morning traffic

thousands of souls

fighting the night

with coffee and cold water

power naps at noon

keeping the grey

at bay

droning away

to keep the machines

up and running

the cogs sharp and shiny

until the night grows teeth again

 placid drones bare their stings

yet much too soon

take the edge of

with one, two, three, too many

afternoon cocktails

until the anger is nothing

but a faint memory

once keen fangs reduced

to jaded blades


© Matthias Geh, 24th January 2018





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