hour
traffic stalled,
an adrenaline
******
can't feel the thrill with hands on the wheel,
tired of a persuasive
touch,
that means so much,
...eats so much of a lifetime,
that hurries home,
that hurries hard,
that furries can't stop,
just make movement go slower,
foot off the gas pedal, time ticks by,
don't gossip or meddle, drop a call,
out of touch, in the affairs of man,
drop the cell phone,
feel the length of the distraction,
tick...tock...tick...tock,
it has been ages,
since the road rage,
was trapped, in the cage,
of a Cadillac dream,
with fingers, texting at
the speed of light,
and the blur, again,
can be seen, and the whir,
of the engine becomes a roar,
motor and human
flesh enmesh,
and an
hour of
the rush,
peaks.
