The Commute

I’m flossing my teeth and steering with my elbow

on this two-lane stretch of K-15. 

A red Gran Torino rides my tail,

then passes going eighty like he does every day.

One day I let him run interference but had to stop

when the shaking started. Couldn’t keep up.

Now I’ve got all these slowpokes to finesse. 

I’m behind a pickup with a black-headed woman

Sticking her head out the window. 

When I pass, I see it’s a goat.

I reach down to get my coffee

and almost run into the tail end of a rump-sprung sedan.

ILSHOYA, his bumper sticker says. There’s the circus camel.

Closer to Mulvane I run up behind a little old woman.

She can’t be going more than thirty.  God save me

From these law-abiding citizens who don’t have to work.

The road widens and I pass the little old woman

who turs out to be a little old man.

My heart softens.  Isn’t it sweet that he can still drive?

Then I’m behind a flowered VW van.  You don’t see those very often.

But he’s going about 20 talking to another car beside him. 

They’re blocking both lanes.

I slow down to find my emery board.

I look up to see a cop with a radar gun.  Nobody

blinked their lights to warn me. Makes you wonder

what kind of folks are out on the road these days.