Drive

Tyrants and matchsticks rattle in the glovebox
Chipseal crunches against balding tires
No lines define lanes but the vehicle knows
This side for going that side for coming
No navigator moves the wheel or accelerates
Backseat drivers act by committee
Voting bickering committing
“Stay on the road” their invocation
“Stay on the road” their benediction
Confident they will because they always have
Nobody sees the fork coming
It doesn’t matter
They wouldn’t know what to do anyway

-T. Weeks
(A response to “As at Thy Portals Also Death”)