messy wisdom

His loose grip on the steering wheel,
my freeze-dried eyes stay forward
I have no interest in his tirades on youth soccer
or the changeless red light we’re racing

I catch his glower in my periphery
and amidst my dwindling concentration,
he yanks the wheel to the left and thunders,
don’t make me

He takes a pack of cinnamon gum from the console,
wolfs a few between his scowled lips
razes their wrappers,
then shoots the foil to the backseat

I am overtaken with a familiar pang as
I, too, have been casually chewed and spit out
I, too, have been garroted
by his pearly whites

In solidarity,
I do not take gum for myself
Instead,
I imagine an ice cube enveloped
in my closed fist
The faster the ice melts,
the faster my nails serrate my palm
Thawing until all that’s left
is my soaked skin,
and scars of bite marks past