Commute
.
.
try to relax
for what reason do you need to go so fast
just listen
and give me a minute to finish my pass
I’ll get out of your way
and let you sprint
the short distance ahead
at your breakneck speed
so you can then wait
behind the next one in line
who can’t go any faster
than the person ahead of them
you’re a metaphor for life
showing me what I already know
yet still manage to forget
I can’t help myself assuming
you will be a giant pickup truck
my presence in your path
being one of your greatest frustrations
though I sail along
at a computer controlled constant pace
well beyond legal limits
navigating my own field of obstructions
decidedly more timid
than I
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.


That’s why I lock the cruise in at 70, stay in the right lane as much as possible, and let the rest of them battle it out.
acyclist13
March 23, 2016 at 8:59 am
A wise practice to employ. The difference of mere minutes —sometimes just seconds— to the destination makes all the frantic maneuvering enroute by some into an advertisement of their limited comprehension.
johnwhays
March 23, 2016 at 9:08 am