a four way stop
an angry face aggresses
into a parking spot.

his vector surgically
perpendicular to me,
his face turned purple.

the gaze locked.
his hands splayed upwards.
the eyes widened and
hard as stone.

funny that we
normally see cars,
not the person inside.
except right now.
the soul of machine
is on fire.

his mouth mimes,
'what the eff ya going to do?'
then he smiles at his kid
in the backseat.

It's Christmas somewhere.

Not here.