Traffic jams, the right lane
reserved for VIPs,
Kings of the Road;
eyes roll instead of wheels,
spirits deflate in confusion,
competition fierce for this
non-event, another exhibition
of society’s lapse to lend more
than lip service to order;
thinning dusklight between
bumpers becomes a shrinking
horizon, as small as egos large,
etching a decisive “X” in the
winners column of a traffic grid,
before the green light of reason
opens the gate;
and then we’re off…
only to be just as late.
©2026, Dan Schell, Flex Your Head Books