Southbound on the Freeway

A tourist came in from Orbitsville,

parked in the air, and said:

The creatures of this star

are made of metal and glass.

Through the transparent parts

you can see their guts.

Their feet are round and roll on diagrams or long

measuring tapes, dark with white lines.

They have four eyes.

The two in back are red.

Sometimes you can see a five-eyed

one, with a red eye turning

on the top of his head.

He must be special—

the others respect him

and go slow

when he passes, winding

among them from behind.

They all hiss as they glide,

like inches down the marked

tapes.  Those soft shapes,

shadowy inside

the hard bodies—are they

their guts or their brains?

by May Swenson

classification:  social commentary