Accelerate.

First feeling transition
stillness to motion,
discarding Newtonian tradition
for freedom.
Tap brakes to consider
left and right, choices and chances
wheels roll and -- whoa!
Watch your speed, jerktown,
kids play around here!

Anyway ...
blacktop bounce
lane to lane
(Dodge that delivery van)
switch on the stereo
Crappy rapper ...
crappy old school rapper ...
(watch it Camry)
sappy singer ...
(nice Bentley, old dude)
oldie that doesn't fit the mood ...
sugary pop crap ...
sugary dance crap ...
... hh, "Hotel California" would work for open road
but not for dippin' and dodgin'
(crap, you ever hear of a turn signal?)
whiny alt-rock ...
grungy alt rock ...
not in the mood for this 80s song ...
where's that iPod?

Playlist?
(ease off gas pedal, catching police lights waiting ahead)
Driving While Black.
pounding beats and staccato vocals
accentuate scowl at occupying forces,
diminishing my velocity
holding me back with their nation of millions.

Bleary-eyed windows watch impassively as I pass
(stupid crotch rocket motorcycle
... oh, and nobody wants to see your girl's stained thong!)
wide lanes and plain sedans
mini vans filled with wrestling matches in back,
harried mom gripping frizzed hair and steering wheel.
It's Monday and miles fall like feet
marathon making their way to work
to school
to home
to life.

I pump up the volume
with Rakim sensibilities
and an Aceyalone lean
headrest peeking past back door window
but hands at eight and four.
Pick up the pace
past pick up trucks,
Tundras path finding their way
in my way,
Turner Family
ignoring red stripe across turn arrow
obstructing justice
making intersection parking lot.

My mind's on Excel spreadsheets
with Chali 2na's words on my tongue
keep moving.
This is the life we chose.

Keep moving.
Keep moving.

"The Commute"
By Hannibal Tabu

Labels: cars, driving, napowrimo, poetry, work, writing