I’m stuck in traffic
and all the people have
places to be
and things to do
and i wonder
what it all means

what do you mean,
you don’t ponder the meaning of life
from the passenger’s seat
of your mom’s minivan
on the way
to the grocery store?
i can’t think of any better
place to do it

my existentialism is too big for my brain
and it spills out
through my fingers tracing circles
on the dashboard
and my feet tapping
out symphonies
to the beat of my heart
and the flashing of the turning signal
of the car in front of us

all these people
with things to do
things that will not matter
in a year
month
week
(maybe not by tomorrow)

our groceries can wait
because i want to make the most
of the years i have
the car is stopped
and i could get out and
wander away into those woods
or just keep driving
until i reach something
that matters more
than whatever i’m not doing here

this is the time
for swimming in public fountains
and getting kicked out of restaurante
for laughing too loudly
and trying my hardest
to find the end of a rainbow
before it fades
making new friends
and new memories
and a good use of my time

the light turns green
and the grocery store is on the left
the translucent dreams flutter in the wind
of passing cars
before fading entirely
i always did dream in dreams
much too big for my head
or my common sense