Christine Jackson

Morning Freak Out

Collisions large and small
carve my nerves
into little balls.
A bearded man half-undressed
hoists a cardboard slab
please help God bless
You jabber on your cell.
Cop pulls next to you in a cruiser
blaring siren hell
Idiot driving the car behind you,
Head bent, texting,
His eyes can’t find you.
Finally, you swerve into the lot
Drive around crammed cars
not a damned empty slot

Annoyed irritated agitated
anxious frantic
Ready, go ninety,
Aim, at a concrete barrier,
Fire, punch accelerator.

Chill with the suicide voodoo;
Everybody hates AM rush hour
As much as you do.



BIO:  Christine Jackson lives in humid South Florida.  Staying weird and writing poetry are the only things that keep mold from growing on her.  She teaches literature and creative writing at a South Florida university.  That is, she is supposed to teach, but she probably learns more from her students than they do from her.  You can find more about her at this link:


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