The dream is only a voyage
Cruising down an asphalt road
In an inflated rubber-tube boat
Small, child-like and mustard yellow
Equipped with a motor
of less than a horse power
Was I
Gliding along with my best speed
A red compact I was trying to pass
When suddenly a high tech sport
Zoomed up from behind me
Forcing me to retract
Because of my lack of speed
Inundating me with heavy fumes
As he passed
He in the compact
Turned with a scowl --
Scolding me for polluting
Unjustly I felt his accusations
"How is that possible" I exclaimed
I with a motor
That over heats
Quitting in a moment
Leaving me no resources for locomotion
Other than my hands
So I tried to explain to him
One does not always see
He who passes with great speed
As the source of evil
That lingers in our midst
