Highway Tourettes

I'm driving down the avenue
going to places I have to go
I don't want to go there
I don't want to be here
What I Want - what I want
is irrelevant
but I'm going and I'm getting
and I'm driving and I'm late
and I don't even want to be there

I'm late for many reasons
but for the sole reason of time
it is my time
but it is not my time
time belongs to no one especially my time
I did not make it so

and I'm told that arriving late
That being late
that of late - I am rude
That being late is a sign
of disrespect
of devaluing you as a person
and you're in my way

You're eating your breakfast
or doing your hair - make up
You are talking to someone on
the phone - or picking your teeth
you are in front of me
You are going too slow
for my conditions
And I'm late
And time is fleeting
And there is no time like the present
And I present to you
if I had a gun man. . .
you'd know where you were going then!

Meanwhile there's some asshole
on my tail
screaming obscenities at me in my
rearview mirror
talking to me in a ranting
sign language which consists
of a single finger waving frenetically my way
my way is not valued he's
not valuing my time
he's not valuing me as a person
and if this were the L.A. freeway
we'd all be dead by now.

But I'm late
And you're making me late
You with your smug 'you should have planned better'
or 'You should have left earlier' or. . .
Hey! I'm a busy guy my time
is valuable and I don't have time
for this I don't have time
for that and I have no time

But it's ok
I no longer hate you -- it is not you I want to blow
out of the water
No - I want you to live
To see to feel in your slow mundane existence
driving at your lawful limits
driving with time on your hands
No - it is your spouse your partner
your children mother father your
dog cat fish bird I want to hurt

I devise great torturous devices
scream these fantasies through my windshield
"Needles in the eyes!" I scream
"Fingernails pulled out with pliers"
"Coca Cola sprayed into the sinuses" I glee
and I describe details the makeshift knick knacks I would make from their flayed skin

I hunch at the wheel
My primal self devolving
bristles raised tongue lolling across my canines
eyes wide large reflecting in the light
I pick up the scent
I'm on the hunt
I am chasing down my prey
I taste your fear savoring the blood
savoring the spray and
I am driving down the avenue

And I think on this about this
this society we live in
us we - our
What kind of people are we?
Where we want to stick needles
in the eyes
of other human beings?
of the stranger in front of us?
simply because they are
slowing us down
from getting to a place
that we don't want to be at
in the first place?

©2005 khristianekay All rights reserved


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