Carbird

I,  Carbird, I  am

Not an albatros hung from the neck of an aging  sailor

Nor  a newborn nerd  of  Nature

Wishing to blow bubbles through a ring without soap

My  wings drive through the  hot noxious fumes

They flap and merge into the fast lane

With wanderlust, zufrieden!

Carbird

Some  know me as Ford Falcon, Firebird or Golden Eagle

I am known to have more horsepower than a Puffin at a crossing

I am known to tailgate using my winged mirrors, 

Airfoil plumes

Hybrid transmission

Roundabout synergy

My  friends run around with

Adaptive cruise control

Drowsiness Detectors

Magic Body Control and

Night Vision

That just has me sound my beep, pressing the HOORN!

As I fill up with biodiversity 

And  make sure this time  there won't  be 

Bidirectional blame 

'Cause a Pontiac Firebird is maneuvering from a hard shoulder 

Hitting a pothole and rolling over in MY direction

The driver, a loose goose, texting, sexting

We're both heading to  a cul-de-sac when

A  Proud Boy  on an electric scooter

Holding a wooden hammer gives me a smile

He only as 6 teeth  but his  grimace is one of 

Road Rage

(I thought baseball bats were used by default)

Then a white Buick Skylark 1963  

Came swooping up  the wrong way of a cobblestoned roundabout 

Flashing  its retrofitted, rehabilitated custom rejuvenescent tail lights

Burning black tread from its White Wall tires 

RPM in the Red

From my  birds eye view I thought again... and maybe it wasn't a Skylark

But an Austin Martin Cygnet

Crash! At that moment the Proud Boy smashed my windshield with his hammer 

I hit the brakes, 

My hydrocarbon emissions were past inspectability 

The guy's hammer got stuck in my triangular vent window

And since it was attached to her wrist he went flying as the car  dragged him across the driveway 

(Pulled like on waterskis, his golden wavy locks clashed with his green military  fatigues)

(A  scream? If there was a scream it was drowned out by the sound of the spinning tires)

Of a house that happened to belong to Jay Leno,  and  180  car collection.

Jay  came running out,  flames and smoke  rising  from  his ashen  head -that  was a separate accident 

I stopped  the  car, sprung out,  flapped my  wings  too  put out the  fire, and hopped 3 steps on the

 

Zebra crossing before  taking  to the skies, promising myself 

Never to  look back into my rear view  mirror.

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