Driving Past
Walking on a one-way street
Guided solely by my feet
Lost and cannot find home
I look at the souls in the cars that come and go
A couple in a used car with dents and chips in its suit
She had a face for the Louvre
He had his hand on the ballooned womb
While his other steers the car to move
Eyes glimmering with something to prove
Driving passed as the exhaust popped and poofed
Seats for ten in a minivan
Sliding doors that open by command
The driver faced behind red as an ant
Wasn’t hesitant to deliver them their medicine
The children pocketed their two cents
The woman parallel sits reticent
Driving passed they exit my horizon
A darting convertible with a roof replaced by air
A young bachelor without a passenger
The road a religion and his car a pastor
Sex drives in a gear that’s faster
A rebel without a cause, the look of an actor
Driving passed to find the care he left over there
