Drive to Work

i am thirty-two years old on september eleven.

i am late to work.

i am rushing out the door.

i hear confusion and alarm but i must make this meeting on time.

i drive and turn on the radio and hear nonsense.

i hear people make up stories about planes and towers.

i do not hear orson welles.

i do not go to the meeting.

i see what happens.

i also see it happen every day across the globe.