poem of the day 10.07.13

spitting

she rolls

through the stop sign

texting someone on her cell phone

almost leveling me in the crosswalk

out of instinct i spit

getting her passenger side window

with a wad of backwash phlegm

that’s thick and yellow like custard

and for a moment she stops

she looks from me

to the spit

to her cellphone

then moves on angrily punching words

into her device

because i’ve finally given her

something of interest

to tell her itty bitty little virtual world.