On the Road with Giants

It’s an overhand knot; looping concrete,
splices through marshland, adding length
to road, shaving minutes off time. An empty
toll booth spills me onto the Turnpike and I
am coursing through a grey morning.

Out now in the open spaces, tall chimneys,
are feeding clouds to a colourless sky.
December here looks like dirty snow.
The radio pines in monochromatic blue
and a jug handle pours me onto the highway where my peers race at 82
keeping social distance in miles

And then, on a sweeping turn of boulevard
for a few brief moments, dwelling long enough to conjure memory, I find myself flanked by a red trucker hammering to the left, hemmed in to the right by black and 18, up front, the moon itself.

Is this what they feel, bikers that move on
like a singular organism for here I am, apace with giants, a crushable speck at mashable speed, but the moon ahead is pondering I think if he is on the road to Damascus, cruising at 65 now thinking if it is too early to die.

But Black on five axles, spread like coal tar
in balanced perfection, the bitumen exhales
in relief and as we breathe in the fumes of asphalt, he indulges my 4. He knows and I know in this fleeting moment, there is road for us both, each to our own Brobdingnag.

Red semi, in wakeful slumber is one with the road, for there will be showers tonight. His dispatcher called him Pablo or Peter, man of flesh and blood, he smiled for his was a happy journey, society seemed social at last. And I, exult in Gulliver to the west , Goliath to the east, Dante pensive up North, no one a roller skate, no one a gear jammer , affixed to the road, coexistng at par, giants all !







This post is for truckers

The morning welcomed a brief moment with giants. I take a pause to appreciate those that spend their time and life on the road with no one for community except others like them. Trucking is a backbreaking job, one which requires effort not to fall asleep, keeps one from family and also puts one at tremendous risk in terms of health and safety. I hadn’t fully understood the implications of road pollution to those that spend countless hours on it, at long stretches of time.

Quoting from the article (1) linked below:
More than 3.5 million people work as truck drivers, an occupation dominated by men who hold more than 90% of truck driving jobs. Driving large tractor-trailers or delivery trucks is one of the largest occupations in the United States.

Let’s raise a toast to truckers and to agreeing to coexist on the road to Brobdingnag. Gulliver has always been a source of delight since childhood 🙂


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