by W. Mahlon Purdin
Screeching by on the right
Back in front at the next light.
Peeling out, nearly hitting a walker,
Screaming into the phone, a talker.
Suddenly turning left, then right
Rushing home for the night.
Cram down dinner and some drinks,
The TV's all junk and as everything shrinks,
Stay up too late, thinking of the morrow,
Have another drink, drown the sorrow.
In the morning there's the remote, the bottle,
So damn mad, ram down the throttle.
Posted on 03/20/2005
Copyright © 2022 W. Mahlon Purdin
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Ashok Sharda on 03/20/05 at 04:25 AM|
Yes, emotional drives with a negative charge is too strong for the intellectual center to cope up with. In any case, your observer seems to be present despite the drive.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 07/25/16 at 10:14 PM|
So well-constructed, acting out this rage. Congrats on POTD! (and breathe......)