Santa Monica Freeway, Eastbound, Sunday 6:21pm
land of straight, rigid streets
and snaky freeways lit up
hot angry red lines glaring
"let's move it!"
hot expectant white lines fuming
"get going, asshole!"
and there, through the smog
rises the craziest moon, as big as jupiter
cresting over mountain shadow
so giant it makes you want to howl
makes you want to jump out,
scramble between the cars on all hairy fours
instead we all crawl just a bit slower
for a better look