The Mad Freeway Minnie Van Lady

I was riding my motorcycle once

All on my time and business

To a business drink or 3

Reggae rockin out to Stick Figure

Not paying mind to the empty faces in cages

That I passed by with my throttle more open than theirs

The grey sky sucked for a ride but the air was malleable

The gods of weather and I had a talk and agreed they were on my side

Traffic decided to slowly stop

The traffic Gods and I had an argument

Too many single humans in cages and not enough lanes

The humans all were going to their places that mattered

To them

I didn’t care

Neither did my iron horse

I fed it just earlier

The slanted freeway bridge made it hard to slow

2 mph and leaning left was a feat

On my two wheeled

Horse of iron and engines and fairing and bags

And the modified exhaust of loud sound

IYKYK

And badass music that blared over the sounds of the earth and cages

And troubles

I swerved a bit right

To see if splitting of the lanes were possible

Because why not?

The black car, the mom van

The mom Minnie van

She wouldn’t have that

She lost her ZEN somewhere in the past

I imagined her white kuckled hands

And cursing at life

And me and my ZEN

And so she strategically chess moved to block my path

You see however, I have this thing on the horse of iron

I am in ZEN mode

Full fucking ZEN mode

Past be damned

Future be damned

They say live in the moment

If you’ve not experience ZEN on a iron horse

You have no idea what ZEN is

You can’t piss on my parade when I’m in ZEN mode

You are peeing in the wind for all I know

Or care

I smiled at her and her caged jail

And I swerved back to the left

As if I’d shoot past her left flank

That was my chess move

Back atcha angry cager Minnie van mom

She swerved left in angry rager mode

My mind sprung to action

No fight or flight mode though

No adrenaline

Full on situational awareness mode

Hearing mode disabled, me and the music, part of my ZEN

Smell, fully engaged.  Exhaust, river, rubber, brakes of cages smoking

Eyes must have looked like REM mode without eyelids

As I search all my vision areas and mirrors, 360 degrees

All the cages locations in front of, side of, and behind of me

Known

The gaps I had exits for

The speed they were going

And the speed I needed to go

All the calculations and exits accounted for

I drew my path blueprint in my head, in an instant

So I smiled to myself and flipped her off with precision

And purpose

ZEN wanted to tell her a thing or two

I then shot right two cars over to the shoulder

The gap opened as if the cagers read my mind

And saw my blueprints

Calmly and with calculated speed and movement

My left, gloved middle finger

Pointed proudly in the air

Towards the Gods of No ZEN

I rode off on that right shoulder of debris

And tire puncturing rapture

Rapture that ZEN spit on

Streams of cagers probably happy, jealous, envious, also mad

Who all lost their ZEN

Watched my taillights

As I sped past all of them

Both hands on the bars above my shoulders now

Feet up on the highway pegs looking like a recliner on wheels

With Out the Door, by Stick Figure melodizing loudly

Wishing and hoping she’d find her ZEN someday

That they all would find their ZEN

The world needs more people on motorcycles