Wednesday, October 14, 2009

In Which I Shake My Fist At The Construction Gods

Dell Range at my end is right now a maze
Of cones and barrels and ugly VM signs.
I'm to the east, so should I get a craze
To go somewhere on business, my designs
Do force always a left turn, which is hard
Enough against the traffic when there's not
Construction out there. I am often barred
From moving as the minutes tick. I've got
A store of patience, but it sure wears thin
Now that the traffic's down to just two lanes
And those so hard to see. A hot place in
Street planning hell awaits, with bright orange chains
For those who made this happen, I decree.
Of course, I know that's not quite up to me.

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