All Punched Out
above the on ramp
I take home from the night job.
The star warrior and the wage earner
change lanes; raised club and turn signal
The black ocean peeks through passing trees.
I don't see what's constant as I drive
home from overtime.
The hero wonders when he can put his arm down
and ride the waves in the mythical moonlight
My exit's coming up. I'll be home soon,
boots off, legs on the couch.
No need to set the alarm, I'm already ready.