Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash

Drive-Through

A poem about embracing rage

The rage that filled me was uncontrollable
The force at which it propelled me from my car — startling
Surged me forward to the driver’s side of the other car
Thinking,
I could be another statistic in this battle
I could be headlining the San Jose news tonight
Thought did not deter
Stopping in my tracks as
The car itself appeared to bow
Its head. To
Kneel.
Backed up
Allowing me, my car to take my rightful place
In line
I take it
Rage still present
Centered
Now in the small of my back
Wrapped around my spine like a boa
Squeezing, throbbing, searing
This rage could be a trap
Breathe.
Release it.
Again. Again. Again.
The spasm subsides.
All this pain for a hamburger?