“For the love of Christ!“
I saw this morning morning’s moron, king-
dork of lame-brained driving, dented door-dinged Falcon, in his riding
Oh the rolling Michelins underneath him needed air, & biding
time there, how he hung upon both lanes o’er the line talking
On his cell phone! then off, toward the median to swing,
As a trash bag sweeps smooth on a cross-wind: and sudden sliding
Cut off my poor truck. My hand in hiding
Stirred for a bird, — disbelief of, stupidity of the thing!
Rear window with velour & dog, oh, smoke, brake, turn, “hey,
Signal!” AND the fish plaque stuck to his tail, a Christian
Turns made suddenly, so close at hand to that Chevrolet!
The dunderhead he sheer plods to plough pedestrians
Swine, & Cheney-Bush fan, USA.
“Fool, fuck yourself, and (YES) your mount equestrian!”