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Traffic and other Calamities


Numbers Game


in the jumble

rumble

slide & acceleration

of the LA numbers game—

710, 110, 405, 105—

you get bored. Look around.

Not at the scenery, but at

the cars that cut you off,

trucks that vie for space,

motorcycles with restraint.

Drivers. I swear I saw a man

who was asleep.

Eyes closed but still bumper

to bumpering.

My favorite today was the Audi

merging without turn signal

or room for the car.

I HEART Hamster bumper sticker.

A little wave, big ring, when I let her in.

Who has a hamster?

Aren’t they just a plump rat?

Not domesticated like a guinea pig.

Hamster.

Later, slowed to a creepy crawl,

somebody’s radio playing

Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”

which might be about unrequited

love or masturbation or both.

Air brake semis won’t share.

The concrete mixer goes round

and round like it ain’t ever gonna stop.

Tuesday. It might be Tuesday.

Planes pass overhead instead of clouds.

This traffic is a reason for birth control,

an alternate dimension of time

and space and nowhere to go.

I might just close my eyes

too.

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