You drive a blue Taurus to work
while the eighty-year-old
in front of you cruises 20 mph
in a silver electra, sometimes turns
from the middle lane
just as the red Camaro on your ass
guns a pass.
No one loves you
though you carry everyone
on your back like Atlas. Sure,
you dodged the draft
and aren't much good at sacrifice
but look: No one offers you
free coffee
as you try to balance your life
like a novice tightrope walker
with no net.
Face it: You're stuck
in the middle of your life
in the middle of your country
smack in the middle of your dreams.
