Commuter Woes

I’m distantly absorbed,
commuting
through a snow flurry.

Road rage
is so ugly.
It’s a predawn traffic

marathon, but I’m in no hurry.
Those lovely, long-gone spring scenes
showed up early.

Snow
on blooming morning glories.
I’m tranquilized, coasting

at highway speeds half-asleep.
I owe money. Emotionally
withdrawn.

Lonely
as parking lots.
Swooned

by paint jobs and plastic infotainment.
Doomed by payments.
No money, woefully

depressed off and on.
Throw money
like a status epsilon.

Anyone might snap at the next
red light.
We all know the signs.

The tense
vehicular body language of
someone gripping a firearm

revved and malnourished.
Am I about to be
a news segment?

Marketing geniuses sold us
car dependency
and sprawl.

Inflating cost and size,
squeezing us just right,
proportional to our income.

Close studies were done.
Debt becomes abstract,
and the fine print

just rambles on
about how human life
is an insurance policy. Honestly,

I’d rather
go back to horse-drawn economies
globally.