Bird of Peace

You cut me off
and steal my space.
I’m so mad I could spit.

I’m a lady,
so instead
I flip you the bird.

Righteous I picture me
pumping my middle finger at you,
riding the surge between my head and my heart,

my heart and my
– oh – my heart

shoves my – index – finger
too – at you.

Peace.
– Jane

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