The Progress of Man

A man was getting into his car – he was very late,
And the car was new and absolutely reflective.
He lowered himself into the driver’s seat, fussed with
The seatbelt, placed his briefcase on the passenger seat,
And looked up to find he was in the backseat.
Strange, he thought,
And carefully got out, so as not the scuff anything,
Tilted things back into their proper positions,
And began to lower himself into the driver’s seat.

He was extremely late, and his automobile was new,
And thus would be pleasure to swiftly navigate.
He fussed with the seatbelt, placed his briefcase to the side,
And looked up to find he was again in the backseat.
There was the driver’s headrest – he could not see
The windshield. How bazaar, he thought.
Carefully, like a tourist at a domino toppling convention,
He got out. Things were not looking so new now.
But still he was very, very late, and the car was waiting

To be driven. Grasping the wheel, he lowered himself
Into the driver’s seat, fussed with his seatbelt,
Placed his briefcase on the passenger seat,
And looked up to find he was sitting in the backseat.
What the hell’s going on? he yelled as he got out.
He stood on the pavement and scratched his head.
Everything seemed in order, although the car
Was rusting – he’d deal with that later.
He wondered if this was some kind of prank.

He was beyond late now – there wasn’t
A word for what he was. He crossed himself
As he began to lower into the driver’s seat, fussed
With the seatbelt, placed his briefcase on the passenger seat,
And looked up. He was in the backseat. He was furious.
He leapt out, threw himself into the driver’s seat, snapped
The seatbelt, tossed his briefcase against the window,
Shattering it, spraying documents everywhere,
And then refused to look up at what he knew was there…