Volvo to Delridge

     He shouts at us with his fingers tapping
against the steering wheel, his Morse-
code communication almost welcome when
it shows that we are there, and that
perhaps
(could I?)
be on his thoughts.
Or maybe he has secret thoughts that elsewhere
dream of liberating stolen sidewalks, while
we are safe in ripped car chairs
(So he thinks)
His fingers singing
“Someday, Hallelujah!”
if we’re lucky we will know.
And if not then more
dashboard conversations are soon to follow
I’m sure.