The road she told me

 Walk the avenue that drifts upward.
Life once safe like inside a cupboard.
Now traffic and criminals inhabit.
The young ashpalt just trying to fit.

She says she is lonely and looks up at me.
She says cars drive over her all day.
Their occupants off to a party or game.
She just gets the fumes, the tyre stains.

Who am I to communicate with the recently paved.
Yet it comforts me as I cross the street for an opportunity.
Looking for a building I might get a sense of unity in.
Smiles for alleys, leaping out are sincere beggers' truths .

Semi rude quite edible my teeth and tongue unglue.
The clouds set and break over divine street's positions.
Grandfather lawnmower spinning over grass and obligation.
The contrasts obscuring and illuminating the avenue.

Eclipsal apocalypse in stasis cradling humanity's obsessions.
It's outer hardened veins concrete vias where car's tear,
Carry the owners between families and careers.
feeding huddled residences and commerce.

Endless celebrations at large halls,
young valets talk and tap the spotlit sidewalk.
Coveting the newest models, keyrings, eyes as hawks.
She looks up at them all as they thoroughfare as society.

That stain on the gutter purple and proof of impropriety.
Road tar in the summer, can't pull my eyes off .
The road envies tire, shoe, paw, even the hoof.
She never ends, she never demands, just lays aloof.

Intersections are empty, vague highways voids of relief.
Plastic cups fall on the sidewalk replace inconvenient faces.
Lamposts bathe in lonliness and the moon lights the pavement.
A glowing tyrant conspiring with the supernatural cement.

In ways that separate sanity from baseline stark reality.
Early Ante-Meridian dew reflects up off the smooth tarmac.
communicating secrets with silent moon too quiet to hear.
She the road was talking to everyone, somewhere,

telling me of the solitude,
the broken white lines wearing thin,
the cracks running from expanding potholes,
I stand on the street listening to her.