a crappy peeling bumper sticker
a corner of it waving and making eyes at him like a street-corner hooker put away wet
it caught his eye before the minivan
did
a faded white Odyssey
Odysseys seemed obsessed with him
in traffic a slow one would be
rolling ahead of him forcing him to pass and passing he recognised it was One
once in city traffic he found
himself amid -- had to be a convoy -- or
an Odyssey convention -- you know the type usually a string of Camaros Corvettes
Thunderbirds coloured like brilliant candy which at
least might turn your head tug a bit at your cock or clit like a well-put-together good-looking woman or man PIZZAZZ!
rolling mechanical sex appeal
-- but Odysseys
dafuck Comon!
in city traffic they had him
boxed up tight
in Tennysons Charge of the Light Brigades fashion
Odysseys to the right of him Odysseys to the left of him Odysseys
in front of him
Stormd at with shot and shell Boldly
he rode into the mouth of Hell
it occurred to him to confirm for everyone he told of his
Odyssey conspiracy to that he ought to
accelerate and smash into the ass-end of the one before him torque the steering wheel violently left and right compel it to careen into the other Odysseys
beside it back off jerk the wheel hard right hard left
slam into and crease those beside him and then stomp his brake and see if he had
caught the last of the nest ramming into him
from behind
he didnt
because while occasion had him
think irrationally
he
didnt act on his aggression or deliberation
but because it had been
orchestrated in his head
when those unfortunate times did
occur
he danced deftly exquisitely
to its particular choreography
and those without him
frankly
didnt
stand a chance
not a ghosts prayer in Hell
that dull white Odyssey
like a melted bar of soap with
maybe one more shower left in it
like pigeon shit spattering the
tarmacked streets under the Elevated the
ironworked Ell or Touhy Avenue beneath the
Chicago and North Western Railroad overpass or an old albino you would have thought might have otherwise
thought hed yellow with age like ivory
his patina finally spoiled
on that dull white Odysseys bumper
If You Enjoy Your
Freedom
Thank A Veteran
certainly it was in error
most World War Two vets
were dead
those he had known were
they didnt sport bumper stickers
of that ilk on their cars
they knew
inside
it made him sneer as it made him
sneer when he heard people refer to themselves as sexy or brave or a bad
ass
because a person who ascribes things to
themselves arent others would ascribe
that to them
since September 11 military
enlistees were manipulated back door drafted
they
were abused for their patriotism which they felt inside their chest and minds
but wasnt thought through
it was drumrolled steamrolled cried
down from on high
they were abused
these veterans didnt fight for Americas
Freedom
September 11 wasnt an existential
threat
it was a bill of goods
a money-maker
sold and bookended by the Twin
Towers by the ceaseless wringing of the thinskinned
shiny hands of the Corporate dealmakers and Government enablers
Thars Gold in Dem
Dar Hills
thats what the
bumper sicker ought to read
albeit uh b-skyoo r
saw 0834, Thursday, 20 8.
15 while reading and walking
1438, Thursday,
20 8. 15
