The road that is and isn’t

There is something the matter with the road

It looks bent at wrong angles

And straight at twisted places

It has ditches that are harmless

And bumps where there shouldn’t be any

It goes narrow at the out skirts and large at city gates

It dips where it should rise

And fall at places where it should be otherwise

It’s black at noon and pale at night

The tar doesn’t boil in sun

But gets warm in the evening

It sleeps during day and wakes up at night

Then is sometimes is washed away by wind

There are no mirages where there should be

No dead ends

Shops are always seen walking in towards it

Interfering with the goings on

People on foot stroll on the middle of the road

They seem oblivious to traffic

Stray mammals go to sleep crosswise

On whatever strip they can find on it

Rallies lift over the road and disappear into heaven

The light only shines during day

At night there are disputes

Some say that this road is, and some maintain that it isn’t

May be it both is and isn’t.

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