Underpath, tunnels, flags,
Ambulance to steers
Fly eighthundred miles
Drive eighthundred miles
Highway, non-stop, go
Carrying persiflage
At high speed
At saga eighthundred miles
Passing ahead
Negotiate at first station
Carrying at the highway (negative gesture; defeat)
It let them, all two in a tiny way
Under the tower, where we're
Passing ahead
From every crater
Too late afternoons
Travellers
To surrender now means to pay the ogre twice
Which I'd distinguish to lift from extensive border
It's done on way
It's just crisped fingers carrying
To return a world, which is each nan's work
Which approaches slowly
Sixtysix gears - Pull the brakes
It attempts in
Rt.
Lay-by, burger-bar - help the waitress to a coin – a milkshake, then pinball
Resting places, snacksharing; bavardage and the doors burn in their brain
Suddenly, there was frenzy
Flat traffic glasses
I am urged to kiss
Rt.
Be precariuos, when we drive
Be precariuos, we can dissapoint
The world, that carries to be, that carries
A second finish
Pierre Rausch
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/migration-governemental-traffic-agencies/
