Out of all my previous lives, I think I miss jousting the most.
I can taunt the minivans that catapult past my driveway,
but soccer moms internalize rage, and even cab drivers
find no sport for their trouble. If you’ve ever lain awake
wondering how to snag the next thrill, you’re not alone—
there’s no shame in thirsting for combat. Take a serious
lesson I once learned watching a beggar woman get (merely)
tapped by the front bumper of a Jaguar XK—her breasts
bouncing under her ramshackle coat; the driver too hurried
to claim his trophy. Just enough time left to laugh.
-- Kimberly Steele