I sit in traffic, idling.
The sun beats down upon my head—
Or rather, on my car.
It might as well be me instead.
The temperature is rising.
I turn the A/C up a bit
And wish the light would change.
It doesn’t; here I sit.
The sweat begins to trickle.
My brow is damp; my eyes are burning.
Slowly traffic moves;
My car makes growls I find concerning.
The heat has made me weak;
I wonder if I’m going to die.
I have no other choice;
I flick the A/C fan to high.
A blast of cold air greets me
But my relief ends very fast.
My car bucks like a bronco;
With one loud bang, it breathes its last.
I’m going to miss my meeting.
Repairs will break the bank again.
But worst of all, the weather’s changed;
I’m stranded and it’s going to rain.