tailgating

I can only imagine
you’re in cardiac arrest
and haven’t got five minutes
to wait for an ambulance
you’re probably giving
yourself CPR right now
bobbing up and down
on the steering wheel
in time to Jon Bon Jovi
Livin’ on a Prayer
as you drive yourself
to A&E

either that, or you’re trying
to outrun that white
van of assassins I can see
rampaging on your tail
I’m sure one of them’ll
be leaning out the window
sometime soon
a plumber with an RPG
hopefully

it makes me nostalgic
for a simpler time I never knew
thousands of years ago
no cars, no commute
just sabre-tooth cats,
infection, hard grains
and long hours
watching from the mouth
of a cave we gazumped
from a great bear
(big, I mean, not wonderful)
I can totally imagine it
you, me, the van men
sitting down to knap flints
round a fire
at the end of another
busy day surviving
but then – wait.
I bet you’d all be head down
working as fast as you could
flakes flying left and right
I’d probably have to move aside
flashing you a wild
backwards look
beneath all that hair
bastards (neolithic equiv)
what’s the rush

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