Snail's are moving faster than we are!
Steamrollers and back hoes litter the median.
Tar smell pervades the air in the truck cab.
Time has stopped.
The wheels on the truck have stopped.
Screeches from the guy riding his brakes rattle my brain.
Cars, trucks, motorcycles, big rigs jam together on the 4-lane
The sun's dipped out of sight,
The 18-wheeler next to us blocks our view.
Nothing to do but wait.
Blare the hardest music we can find.
And munch on our stash of bananas.