The lights stay red long
enough to change a wheel
at some intersections.

Almost time enough for me
to complete a poem on the
back of a ***** delivery truck.

Green was the undoing of me,
up went the rev counter, a
blast of diesel fumes and away!

Unfinished was my the title,
anticipation was my subject,
completion was my object.

Later in the day it was parked
outside the police station, with
someone else's ending, on, an anon.