Poulsbo

I'm stuck behind a woman, an old
woman, no, make that an elderly
woman driving a 1978 Buick Skylark and
navigating through the space between
the steering wheel and the dashboard. The speed
limit is fifty-five but she's going forty
three, and I'm late for work
again, too much opposing traffic
to pass and we come to a stop
sign, her, and me, and the asshole
tailgater who boxes me in,
wedged behind her gigantic bumper,
and the old lady dies, slumping
forward on to the
horn. The sound is joined by wailing
sirens when the police come,
and they give me a ticket for
expired tabs.

There is no waking from this
nightmare, except for the part
about having a job.

¶ Monday, July 19, 2004