At red lights the zen method whips to a frenzy And static is captured from light in the air So daylong the minutes go flat with disaster And Gauguin and so long and Godspeed and no more Explode into rancor that vaguely complies. He opens the car door and calmly just wanders In traffic and headlong at tail-end elated, A nomad of so what that shuts up at shallows To reel that he's feeling the thrill it implies. But really he doesn't in drumming the doldrums That care to impair the indignities manic, And shouting at windshields and bumpers and daylight He drives off in limits that don't drag him down.