On a Wile E. Mural

 

Driving between broken white spines

       of the New Jersey Parkway,

lanes hook over the horizon

       like rung-less ladders.

 

I ask:

line of sight,

or foreshortening?

 

Processing the speed

      of 78 mph trees and grass blades,

an overpass bludgeons the open road ahead.

      With faith in my airbag,

 

I ask:

trompe l'oeil,

ou faux pa?

 

...loosely translated:

am I Roadrunner

or Coyote?

 

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