You get in your car
Life becomes chance
How many self-absorbed
Won’t signal in advance?
Go u l t r a s l o w
Or light speed fast
Power-starved tailgaters
Up your ass
So you tip your mirror
Rather than react
To the Sociopath
Weapon at your back
Tanks obscuring view
Like generals in a war
All they lack is a swastika
Printed on their door
There’s never a cop
To issue a stiff fine
To the Omega Man
Control-freak of the line
For every given license
There should be a class
And I don’t mean a test
A monkey could pass
Three strikes could apply
To maniacs of the road
Who leave their house
Looking to explode
Sometimes you just pull over
Better yet turn around
Cause it only escalates
After mile two I found
God grant us to be patient
And keep us educated
That some so need a doctor
Who’ll keep them medicated
The rules of the road
Will never apply to these
Until their wrongful right
Is taken with their keys.
Ciera S. Louise c. March 14, 2005