Spirits to Ghosts

Unsafely written at red lights in Pinellas County, FL

Who are the spirits of strip malls and gas stations

Of multi lane highways and traffic lights?

And should we think of these things

As persons, too?

Just like us

They’re made of earth and dead things

Maybe more like us

Than celebrities

What would it mean

To hold a conversation with a light pole

To ask it of everything it’s seen?

To ask a street

What it feels like

To stretch and support

For free?

Could that heal our Cartesian spree?

I can

Just

Start

To see

The enchantment

And comfort-seeking magic

Behind the world we’ve built

But then I’m pulled back into the lulling spell of overculture

Blinded to truth by Mondays and meal prep

Why am I forever

Left with ghosts?