Road Rage

Go ahead and rage at me, sir

but if you’re gonna ride

my a*s like that I wish you’d

at least give my hair a little tug

then you pull up alongside me

and you got your jaw putting in work

your hands are shaking and

you try and arc your spit across

the gap between us, the passenger seat

the three feet of empty asphalt between

your anger and my calm shock;

I almost wish you’d see it through, sir

open your driver door and cross

that empty asphalt with

your tire iron or your knife

your fists or your gun

and batter me to bits leave

me in gore on the pavement

dripping red and thick the last

of my molecules draining

into the creek below where I was born

mixing hemoglobin with the water

at least that way my end

would be worthy of the six o’clock news;

Instead I’ll die an anonymous man

in a little dirt town

a worthless drunk

who never made the papers.

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Because I'm a sick man, I laughed at part of this. Truly creative writing, JR. So much vivid imagery, especially the creek scene. Read literally, I can see this unfolding on today's roads. Read otherwise, I think the "sir" could be the Father or father, a higher authority who's spoken or preached about our behavior, drunkenness, etc. This poem, like several others, proves you're a good storyteller and poet.

[JR]

Thanks man, part of this happened to me the other morning LOL, and it got me thinking... it's bleak, but I think it kinda illustrates the whole "better to burn out than fade away" kind of vibe.

[R.E. Ray]

JR, you have some great stories around you every week. Thanks for crafting them into poetry and sharing here. It's great stuff.

[JR]

Much appreciated, admiration is mutual.

[Beccy]

This happened to me. A while back now, but still vivid in memory. I was driving through Maida Vale to where I was working at the time, and this guy behind me was really, really close, so I rather foolishly unwound my window and waved my hand, gesturing for him to stay back. He went absolutely mad! Flashing his lights, honking his horn, shaking his fists and the expression on his face was almost maniacal. He followed me all the way to the firms private car part, which is protected by a barrier and a security guard. It was only when he saw our security man Kyle, who is so big he almost has to turn sideways to get through a doorway, that the guy showed his true colours and turned tail. I was really shaken up and haven't forgotten the incident to this day.

We would all like to make our mark on the world, but I think I would rather just fade away without making the papers, rather than have my blood spilled by such a nasty example of our oft times violent species.

As RE says, this is vivid writing.

Beccy.

[JR]

Scary stuff for sure! People just lose their minds on the road.