I wish I were first

for once in life-

this linked line I walk

that feeds off behind

exhaust fumes of others,

someone is always above.



To have the position

of select choice portions-

where bigger is better,

gives meaning to the smallness.

All green lights

down my traveling road,

better views,

closer seats,

paved driveways,

first class,

fresh-dewed grass.



I have a life, sir

it features crawling,

and rasping of grab

and growing hairs.

Listen and feel, madam

my dry skin needs oiling,

bones beneath chatter

to your ghosts of more.

These veins transport

blood like oil pumps.

I do have a name



somewhere lost-

stay, so I may tell you

as I comb and sift through

this grave of gravel through

the pennies and peanuts.

And you will see

buried in the heap,

I do have a name-

somewhere forgotten.