I wrote a poem this morning. It made me giggle and think of a few of my favorite paintings. And, as much as I hate commuting, it has proven to be a (slow) steady font of inspiration.
The best part is the pacing. I love how, like sitting in traffic, the narrative gets angrier and angrier. That’s what it’s like in my head if I let my focus linger too long.
I wish death on those who chug along
And never let me pass —
For miles and miles you’ve blocked the lanes,
You mother-fucking ass.
And what the fuck is up with those
Who zoom to cut you off
Then break real hard and slow you down
But feel you shouldn’t scoff?
Oh, fuck the world and fuck you all
And fuck this highway too:
This bird I throw, this honk I blow,
It’s aimed at fucking you.