funky city rhythm

I can feel that funky city rhythm
going 120 clicks between the blue and the green

the city easing into the outskirts
the predictable tripped up by epiphanies at the peripheries of perception.

I can feel that funky city rhythm
I do I do

there's my stop--- dropped off into a memory
the air fragrant-- it must have been May--- and time talks to me,
shuttled in by the sunshine, its colors burst my bubble, giving a taste of the rainbow,
giving a rest to the complexity in the senses plugged into what's out of the question,
some with no answers

which has it's side effects and neuroses,
but as sure as each day decomposes
everything one supposes
goes into that funky city rhythm.