Road Rage, a Semi-Satirical Poem

John values the use of humour and enjoys writing and reading limericks and jokes. He is a fan of Dr. Seuss, Edward Lear and Shel Silverstein

A Short Introduction

Most of us have experienced some form of road rage at one time or another, whether just angry insults as someone passes us, or full on physical confrontation. Some people are just always tense and a fight waiting to happen, with just the smallest incident setting them off.

I have never written about road rage before so I thought it was about time. This poem is my attempt to address the issue in a semi-satirical fashion.

satireˈsatʌɪə noun

'the use of humour, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues." - Dictionary.com

Road Rage

Sunday drivers going slow,

No need to rush or speed.

Those behind don't care to know,

They'd love to take the lead.

Impatience quickly breeds contempt,

The ire, it churns inside.

No one on the road's exempt,

They're all there for the ride.

"Where's an overtaking lane?

There must be one ahead.

Going slow drives me insane,

It's messing with my head."

Slow driving causes anxiousness

To those who're stuck behind,

And this soon turns to recklessness

By the bored, impatient mind.

Don't try to overtake too soon,

Wait for the broken line.

Passing now could spell your doom,

Be sure to take your time.

Make sure you always indicate

When you're about to turn,

Or road rage you'll initiate

As tempers start to burn.

Then maybe when you stop at lights

You'll get a nasty shock.

There's someone itching for a fight,

Some overmuscled jock.

Who feels that you have wronged him

Or somehow made him late.

Maybe his session in the gym,

And now he's filled with hate.

Try not to provoke him more,

Or join in any fight.

Make sure that you lock your door,

With windows wound up tight.

Let him stomp and rant, be crass,

Irate and acting mean.

Then quickly step upon the gas

As soon as lights turn green.

Leave him coughing in your fumes

As you drive off unfazed,

So the last thing that he sees of you

Is your middle finger, raised!

Author's Note

I know what you are all thinking, "Here we go again!" Well, I can't help it, ok? I'm on a concept that seems to work for me so I'm sticking to it. (see me grinning)

The latest book I chose from my shelves is "Road Rage" by Ruth Rendell one of the world's most popular and prolific novelists.

This book is one of a series of Inspector Wexford Mysteries, and here is one review:

"With immaculate control, Ruth Rendell builds a menacing crescendo of tension and horror that keeps you guessing right up to the brilliantly paced finale."

-Good Housekeeping -

I couldn't have described it better myself.

© 2018 John Hansen