5'o clock rolls around and we skitter

from our gray nests out into the world

for another few hours of freedom.

Our spirits soar like children released

for summer break, though

we shamble like zombies

through cavernous parking structures

to cars we can barely afford.

The line of vehicles idling

winds like a python

choking the flow of traffic

as exhausted workers go from

gas to break to gas again

inching down the road car by car,

the radio static and top forty dreck

occasionally punctuated by

the blast of a horn.

Heavy eyelids droop at red lights

only to snap open again

as if spring loaded.

We are a plague upon the highway,

a cloud of sluggish locust

belching exhaust as we

stop and go and stop

our way home.

The list of things to do hangs

like ticker tape before our eyes,

populating with the ever-accumulating

trivialities that make up life

only to vanish into vapor

when it comes time to act.

Then there are those brief moments

of horror and genuine introspection

where you take stock and find

that just a little bit more of yourself

has been worn away,

that your soul is being strip-mined

for bottom dollar

and by the time you understand

what it is that's happening to you

you're in your driveway and

there's so much to do before

you go to sleep and start it

all over again tomorrow.

