naturally, we are all caught in
downmoods, it’s a matter of
chemical imbalance
and an existence
which, at times,
seems to forbid
any real chance at
happiness.

I was in a downmood
when this rich pig
along with his blank
inamorata
in this red Mercedes
cut
in front of me
at racetrack parking.

it clicked inside of me
in a flash:
I’m going to pull that fucker
out of his car and
kick his
ass!

I followed him
into Valet parking
parked behind him
and jumped from my
car
ran up to his
door
and yanked at
it.

it was
locked.
the
windows were
up.

I rapped on the window
on his
side:
"open up! I’m gonna
bust your
ass!”

he just sat there
looking straight
ahead.
his woman did
likewise.
they wouldn’t look 
at me.

he was 30 years
younger
but I knew I could
take him
he was soft and
pampered.

I beat on the window
with my
fist:
"come on out, shithead,
or I’m going to start
breaking
glass!”

he gave a small nod
to his
woman.

I saw her reach
into the glove
compartment
open it
and slip him the
.32.

I saw him hold it
down low
and snap off the
safety.

I walked off
toward the
clubhouse, it looked
like a damned good
card
that
day.

all I had to do
was
be there.