On E at 8:45

Last night my tank was empty.
After class it was dark
and muggy
and I needed some gasoline.
I was traveling a mere 20
behind an old car in a 40 zone.
My bumper wasn't up hers
but I guess she thought it was.
Because upon braking at the light,
an unattractive woman
yelled out her window
profanity
at me.
I gave it no thought.
Apparently my head lights in her mirror
brought unpleasant words to her tongue.
They bounced off of my window.

The sterile intimidating lights in the fog
welcomed me at the station;
it read $1.99.
And as the machine was pumping juice into my car
two young, attractive
modern, (un)dressed ladies
bounced out of their daddy's Suburban-
wasted. Obviously.
And trying to clean the dirt off of the window,
squeegees in hand
they made fools of themselves.
Hollering potentially crude words:
"Ever seen a drunk girl wash her window?"
Such pride and ignorance-
I wonder if they made it home safe. ..
Behind me, a voluptuous
African American Woman
rolled her eyes.
I guess she found herself in a better
state of mind
than the American Girls.

At the next light,
on the way home,
I read the window chalk
about supportive HSU football
parents
on the back of their $UV.
And next to me
a low riding,
free speech, rapper
sharing his beats
with the entire neighborhood.

I found myself on the median
of this cultural swirl
of differing expressionalists.
...what a dichotomy of personalities...
Where does love
and commonality
fit in?
The only tie-
traveling on the same road..

Jesus, come soon.
Our tanks are empty.