Stuck behind a Dump Truck

by John Muth

Dump truck drivers are evil.
They like to prowl
the one-lane highways,
always during rush hour.

His EPA-condemned vehicle
bangs like Satan
trapped in a freezer,
spills out stones
that patter
lazy shotgun buckshot
all over my new car.

He's going full speed,
but I am almost standing still
fighting back tears of rage

I knit a sweater,
steering with my knees

I write a novella about a man
who kills dump truck drivers for fun

The driver behind me falls asleep,
his car veers into a drainage ditch

An elderly woman with an artificial hip
races us from her gravel driveway.
She beats us for awhile,
then grabs her chest and falls down.

My watch commits suicide.

I start to chew my wrists.

Finally, he turns off into a sub shop,
and I race the last 50 feet to work,
laughing like a man reprieved
from a death sentence,

But the parking lot is empty.

Everyone has already
gone home for the day.

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