As you read my latest original five-line poem, enjoy one of the songs from The Road soundtrack I’ve been obsessed with as of late.
are other brains ever still, like a rock within a rushing river
instead of the stick taken by the current?
the only reprieve comes if the stick catches the embankment,
and even then, one has heard of a stick in mud, but this
belies slow, for the river still continues its onslaught.