Tonight's Poet Corner: Tuesday Traffic

Tuesday Traffic
by Belinda Roddie

Be careful as you drive behind
the car with whiskers; it hasn't shaved
in months, and now its tires droop
deeper than its jowls do, as it experiences
a full-blown mid-life crisis in the middle
of the goddamn highway.

All I've had today is a muffin, a burger,
and booze - and now all I want
is to avoid the vehicular five o'clock
shadow as it leaves rubber stubble
across sad, sagging tar that's already scratched
with its own epitaph. Stop me if you've
heard this one before, but do you know

the joke about the dude who walked
into a bar with asphalt tucked under his arm
like a haphazard newborn? "A beer, please,"
he demanded, "and one for the road!"
Well, give the road's pint to me, my dear.
I'll drink it faster than the sun is setting,
and I'll flip the bird to the bearded lady
on wheels and swathed in pink fiberglass
because Jesus, she cannot sing.