Sipping Coffee

Waking to the highways’ Doppler simulated waves,

the champagne shores reach a climax when I’m even with the engine.

The ambulance’s siren introduces a bursting cacophony,

drowning as it speeds away, engulfed by the orchestral speed of the sea.

The blur of relativity reminds me of the joy of airplane window seats,

minimizing our banality to speckles.

Highways converted to veins, pumping our quotidien,

measuring our limits in mph like a capitalistic currency,

a toll for our inefficient markets.

The beeping of horns milliseconds after the light flicks green,

as if a race has started without us.

The gun went off and we’ve already missed a beat.

Hitting a red light like an ill-timed commercial break which leaves us suspended,

a forced pause like the buffering of a streamed tv show.

The sobering beauty of our simulacra

fueled by the giddiness of competition.

With the nietzschean realization,

There is no winner…

There is only the passion of participating in the game.