ROADSIDE COURT
The Master holds the scales at the roadside,
Main road through the desert;
Unto the Roman night, unto the wall
Of ambivalent stars; and hypnotic
Are the headlights of cars
That swerve through our gypsy court.
The blackness of the wall of now on.
Hopeless, endless, passionless road;
Where a black, lightless dawn suspends
Over the sinking metropolis of constant nothing.
There is only resignation here,
And no wonder anymore.
Great lights that light the passers-by,
Who won’t stop for a soul like mine.
What am I? Poor wayfaring child
Who deserves this. Won’t one of you
Stop this?
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