that’s my job
bright roads
know where to go
that’s my job
polish ’em
cats’ eyes
there’s those i missed
gaps in the lines
not serious
some bastard
car
too fast
i had to jump
then there’s the cats’ eyes
still used
i polish ’em too
so you can see ’em
cats like it
after a year
end up queueing
they do
but though i polish ’em
though you saw ’em
cats get gutted
still
too bloody fast
they are
cars
what i don’t tell
better poem to this
said to me itself
dark
no write
it was
last night
driven home
seeing cats’ eyes
i was
still