In the Valley

In the valley, every heel clacking pavement has purpose
stop signs direct and design
cars flowing by
and the course of our lives
and for all that infinite potential
at some point you must choose
up the alley, or down the hill
as if it really was a choice
as though you could ever know the difference

In the valley, life drones at a sixty hertz buzz
the coffee machine metronome
counts down to restless leg weekends
and empty glass cocktail events

Standing high on the hills,
wind clutches your shirt like an Indian beggar
and you can see all of this
and it scares me like hell
In the valley, nobody asks
what is it all for