Trapped in Seattle

A poem about escaping.

Delivery truck ahead
Car behind
Trapped! In an alley
Between 2nd and 3rd
on Pike.
Water
drips
on windshield
from blue skies,
a yellow crane
thirty stories up.

Look left, scat! Dog?
Nope. Droppings from the
predominant biped
in these parts.
On my right, construction workers
stand, smoking, hunched over
phones in hand.

Ah, some extra time. Book
Of poems in the trunk. Read
One about Spring, and one about logging.
Who ever heard of an environmentalist logger?
Falling old growth Douglas Firs
In the North Cascades
for human boxes
in California…

Knock on the window.
“Do you need to get out?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
Car backs out and I follow.

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho,
To I-5 South I go,
Where I can shit in the woods,
And nobody’ll ever know!