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Road Rage?
by Rick Tornello

A blue clear day
A Volkswagen in gray coming quickly behind.
A mirror checked out, not a hint she’s about
thus into her path he aligned.
A look to rear, a tight faced was viewed,
and to the right she slewed.
As she deftly maneuvered, her finger she lifted
and projected her thoughts as she stewed.
He returned the salute and with a nod and a hoot
thinking what was the point of this?
You were driving almighty, almost at ninety
on a street labeled quite less.
So with a smile and pass,
to the pretty young lass,
an appropriate spell he did cast
Her finger opposed
and quickly it rose
and into her nose it did jam.
Jammed and stuck firm!
She squealed and she squirmed
she yanked and she turned,
she pulled and she prodded,
panic and grief  besotted,
with looks from others quite odd.
Tears of embarrassment streaked down her face,
as to her work she raced .
And no helpdesk could erase
her digits so placed.
So on to tasks she drove.
With her proboscis extended by a phalange in-ended
She wondered what she had done?
Then she remembered
her digit high lifted
from the driver near-ended
his look, head nodded, anon.  
I mean for a curse, it could have been worse
for her finger and butt could be co-joined.
But manners and kindness,
Not  rudness or blindness
were his way of saying “now be nice”.

By Richard Tornella 2011 & The Village idiot Press