the turn signal forgets its duty
withdraws the promise of passing
making new rules in an ocean
of pavement and speed limits

where workers claim their land
with reduced lanes and inconvenient hours
their camaraderie drowns out the disappointment
of drivers who left their homes too late
dragging their shadows to
what must be indecent times
in the work space

they slow their speed to a whisper
and attack the horn like a beast
upon its prey
reveling in the language of anger
charged with excessive fury
raising a sermon to command people
who cannot hear the voices
too small to leave the confinement
of their vehicles