Country Roads

A cow walking
big and pitched black,
in his own lane,
so I pass him.
I honk and he moos back.

Rains came,
at one point hard.
Opened the window and shouted,
“Hell fucking lo?
It’s a fucking library!?”

The navigator gets
a bit too comfortable. As in,
Can I get a little bit more
of your feet in my face?
Your feet and your unshaven legs?
She keeps saying “propound”
and it’s drivin me nuts.

At the top of the hour,
radio news says Stevens
is back for ANWR, lest
these twenty-five frozen years…

But I’m obliged to object—
everyone governed by the same rules,
no one here entitled to an
up or down vote.

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