ON OUR EMPTY WINDSCREENS

On our empty windscreens

Where, once, zillions of bugs spattered themselves

And we cursed.

On our empty windscreens

Our lives flash by,

Traffic jams, bypasses and concrete.


On our empty windscreens

We wonder where the bugs have gone.

Better aerodynamics we say,

That’s why.

On our empty windscreens

We carelessly wipe our futures.

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