I have seen them on the freeway
doing forty and creeping along
in brand new cars, driving BMW’s
Mercedes Benz compressors, Audi’s
in the one hundred and twenty zone.
In the fastest lane
with huge white eyes in night black skins,
stretching over female faces,
totally alone with big L-signs
on the back or back window of the car,
passing signs prohibiting doing less than sixty
and ignoring them
as if totally petrified,
shocked by the reality of driving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem