the line at the DMV is out the door,
hundreds deep come for license or plates
nervous teens ready to take their driving test
a little boy, maybe three
tricked out in a button up shirt and jeans
more expensive shoes than my entire out fit,
high and piercing, enough to make ears bleed
his eyes slits between puffy red flesh
i rub my neck but it does not help the throb
of waiting & wasting time mixed with the clanging
gong, five alarm fire he is & i am not the only one,
a bomb is about to go off
to the oblivious and no one will escape alive
so i make a face, screw my lip up, wide eyed
and scrunchy, smack myself, woop,
make strange animals with my fingers
the line inches slowly away to give me space,
making room for the cop inching closer,
hand on his shoulder radio
& finally the boy peeks from behind little fists
a little laugh on his little lips
silence, so sweet you could weep, except
the lunatic with a mohawk, his mom
looks up from the magazine she's been reading
and mouths 'thank you' then buries herself
once more, her finely manicured nail tapping the cover
just below 'How to have a life after kids'
Arriving eventually at the reception desk,
the older lady working whispers,
'I won't make you wait any more.
I'll take care of you right here,'
and that is alright by me.
Today, I am privileged to be highlighted at Diagnose your Characters, the blog home of author Josh Hoyt.