Ever since I learned to drive I have had a back seat driver,
Saying things like “slow down” or “stop I don’t want to be a survivor”
“I want to get there in one piece.”
Once I tried to go over the speed limit and he went hysterical.
“Slow down at once or I swear to God I call the police.”
I slowed down and laughed as if it was whimsical.
I don’t know if it’s the ghost of my Father,
Or some representation of my Mother,
Either way he is part me and normally not a bother.
He only becomes a problem when I pick up a hitch hiker,
I once saw a guy trying to thumb a lift he dressed like a biker.
My Back Seat Driver screamed “stop and think,are you crazy?”
“It might be Charles Manson’s grandson, keep driving.”
It finally came clear that he was part of me,
I tried a few ways to get rid of him.
I would talk incessantly and confuse the issue.
That didn’t work. It actually made things worse.
I couldn’t concentrate it was like a curse.
Then I thought of Music.
I played some songs on the car cd player.
Rock and Roll didn’t work, Easy listening didn’t work.
The only thing that worked was Mozarts piano concertos.
So if you ever here Mozart coming from a car it is probably me.