I invent my own “turn here” sign
by deciding ahead of time
which frequency I’ll follow
until
green phase “fulfilled”
or mixes, like, with its complement, pink,
the most blaring pink that I exchange snapshots of
with my friend as it happens upon us in routine tasks.
We think this pink is conscious
it’s following us,
or, was,
until
chartreuse overcame.
Fabricated as religion
an optic emission of light
flashes in mind
when new music gives me goosebumps
and guides my every move
all of which is to say
that if a decision feels “neon green”
to me, right now, I’ll make it
