Drivers are hiding
I see them behind blacked-out windows
Some are wearing the personality of their car for better or worse
Faces without names
Curse out each other’s own game
How did we get so barred
So cold in our little cars
Sitting in the longest waiting line of the week
If only it didn’t happen every day
Oh, but not just that,
Every Day wants to outdo the Day before
There’s not a wink of cloud in the sky
Yet it’s all too scorchingly gloomy without the clouds
Such a weird thin line
We live on
This time we’re wondering
If the sun shines again
No... I mean let it truly shine
So here we wait
We fill our lungs with anticipation
At the same rate,
Drain the compassion
Some people just don’t know what to do with the build up, you know, when things are done in excess
What to do with our twiddling thumbs
In the waiting line, at the lights, on the highway
The next moment they can react is the very moment both them and their cars curse out another one of us, just another driver behind our masks. Such a rush we rush to be in but traffic... traffic does know one thing good: how to keep us on our toes....
Slow down,
Slow
Way down
Because before we know it we’re back in traffic, in the waiting line, waiting to jump the gun,
finding some way
some way out
once again.
Wait........................................... is that a
Dog?
Is this what is called manifestation?
Holy Hells It works fast..kinda like........ Karma.
Now...
What should I call the dog?
HIGHWAY!
Okay Highway, you got it.
This is what you wished for..
“Come on boy! Come here! Jump in!”
The Highway did exactly as his wish granted.
He jumped in
right on my lap
and off we go
Back to traffic!
We love over each other still the same. Highway with his head moving left, right, up, down, left, right, up, down. The poor boy doesn’t know his directions.
“Which way up, which way down, which way I don’t know, I just go.”
Probably a good thing. He doesn’t have a care in the world but to be on a forever state of High. Eternal bliss.
Sparks are constantly flying from his eyes, somewhere off to beatitude probably.
He has this pulse that I immediately felt when he first jumped in. The car agreed.
It started to beat.
A sense of rhythm
regains in harmony.
He is just…
Happy.
Yes Highway is the Happy One.
The bright elated dog…
Do you know what the greatest dyslexic error in the world is?
Dog is really spelt
God.
Jaime Sol Black and Allyson Dawn Su, "Self Portrait of Highway and his Son Buffalo" (2025)