Which way will you turn? Blinkers stay unlit,

One land, Two sea, None by inept driver.

Absent headed fool in traffic we sit,

Stick figure family, mocking riders.

Greenlight, like grass after showers in March,

I suggest a place to pull your head from.

Us parked two garish statues on the road,

I exhume expletives, the light turns red.

It's possible you're texting on your phone,

Or you're new and just nervous at the wheel,

Or you're busy singing loudly alone.

But you just shouldn’t be driving, for real.

It's not your McCain sticker that has provoked.

I pray for your license being revoked.