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Three Line Lunch: Pushy Asshole

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 92

Pushy Asshole

Light turns I’m stuck in intersection. I squeeze in to right of car ahead.
In her bubble she rages. “Roll it down,” I mouth. “You can’t cut!” she yells.
I try to explain that I wasn’t. She: “I’m not listening, you pushy asshole!”