we carry a granite paver from the streets of 
old chicago dumped in the lake after a century or so 
of progress and halfway there crossing 56th 
an angry autopilot wants bad to scare us bad or run 
us down in the optional death crosswalk 
and flips us a long billy stick 
of a fuck-you finger flung 
against his silencing glass,

and i said to r. haha, i could have 
lobbed this brick 
through his windshield 
and put his lights out
haha
i know i'd not
but boy howdy how
easy it'd be i can see
how hate engenders 
hate, like a brick
thrown with incendiary,
unconscious speed,
between strangers
auto-matic.