There is someone who leads all traffic jams,
who clogs arteries no stent can keep bleeding
in and out of the city’s heart.
Literally, there is one single someone
refusing to slog to the beat,
the cause of many a squabble,
some fearful soul ever too cautious,
the one who drives asleep
in a miasmal fog,
who causes all the late arrivals
and red-faced anger spilling over
the dinner table’s cold meals,
someone who forces Implausible excuses at the office,
who chokes me like a woolen scarf.
Who the hell on earth is this troglodyte,
who, this clod-hopping stranger, this dirty dog,
this broken cog, this loathsome frog,
this rotten log that gets in my way and yours?
I need to meet you, you creep;
I’ll clean your clock.