8 Exhausting Lines

The baggage of a lifetime’s in a truck

Whose dark exhaust makes hellclouds when it stops

And stings the eyes and lungs of rearguards. “****!”

Says driver Ed. “Someone might call the cops.”

“Step on the gas,” says Davis, riding shotgun.

“Let’s take the lead. My asthma might kick in.”

A dancing advertisement in a lot spun

His sign, and yelled “Hey, Smokey!” with a grin.