White man in a big black pickup truck
barrels past me on the right flipping me the bird
holding his middle finger high and stiff for at
seconds so I am sure to absorb the effrontery.
At first, I am puzzled as to why my presence
can be so insulting, so evocative – how merely traveling
on the same highway in the same direction can bring such rage.
Why?
Is it my tiny yellow car?
Is it the fact that I am only going
ten miles above speed limit in the fast lane?
Is it my gender?
Oh, that’s right, I now remember,
it must be my bumper stickers:
black lives matter
love thy neighbor
make america read
teach peace
fight hate
Off he goes into oblivion
propelled by his aggression,
disturbed by my freedom of expression.
inlandiajournal 