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.