The road is narrow, bent and icy in places.
Blue lights flash up and down ittwice a week.

We push the Limits
suspension Creaking andtittering
Fiendish smiles, forced by confusion and fear
fingerswhite-Knuckled around ridges on steering wheels
thighs tight keeping the pedaldown, keeping driver in seat
We are prisoners glued to cell benches, strappeddown,
with blurred reflections of road signs in our eyes

85 in a 30with frost heaves and potholes
proving to each other
knowing at any momentthe car could
    Jump the wrong crack
                Joltoff the road
                        spin,launch
    into the dawnlight
                        Careening towarda
                        Twirlingcloud of
Mixed yellow-gray against black
Peeking, composed andcondescending,
from behind tree lines and phone wires.

            We mix withbackpacks heavy with today'swork
                                  pupils Grinning with adrenaline in theair
                        wrestlinglike clothes in a dryer
behind a chauffeur determined to hold
hisgirlfriend's Hand and steer with the other

We drive and are driven
Downthe path of jolts and bumps
Every day
We take the fastest and most abusiveroute
We ruin our chariots, our mornings, our wits
For the sake of animage,
A pointless crown of rebellion