Red Light

Bad day at Delaware Park.
Lost the last race in a photo
and that was the day’s highlight.
Tried to outrun a hangover
with the hair of the dog –
no photo here,
Grey Goose easy winner.

Now I’m stopped at the
longest light in Wilmington,
chin on fist, hurting.
This guy pulls alongside,
one hand on the wheel,
the other choreographing
an adamant conversation with no one,
then I realize – the head set thing.
Bad haircut and a headset.

It occurs what a contrast we
present the afternoon.
Him - impressing those both near and far
with his dialog,
his eyes showing an altruistic joy
with being so connected.
Mine - bleeding and bored
to the point of letting my mind
wander into ‘Headset’s world’
and imagining his women
profiling his importance.

He’s never out of touch.
On top and in control.
He provides that input
and direction that inspires.

Constantly pulling the strings
and mapping the strategy
of whatever Empire afforded him
this maroon Dodge Spirit
and un-ironed corporate-logoed knit.
The light changed and I hit it,
wanting to have a clear lead
at the first turn.