Monks and Motherfuckers

while cloistered
in my ’92 toyota
smoking cigarettes
this week’s music
that i’ve been listening to
is monks chanting
but i still find myself
speeding, making
unsafe lane changes
calling other drivers
on the highway
motherfuckers even as
the kind brothers’ love
hums through the speakers
peace doesn’t exist
in new york traffic
these monks are up against
too many machines
full of rage
& after i see the hearse
i pop the tape out
& toss it onto the grass
just past the shoulder
for the drunks who are out
in the cold in orange jumpsuits
picking up litter
& praying for something
to make their community service
shift bearable

Rob Plath