All Punched Out

Orion's belt unbuckles

above the on ramp

I take home from the night job.

The star warrior and the wage earner

change lanes;  raised club and turn signal

flashing bright.

The black ocean peeks through passing trees.

I don't see what's constant as I drive

home from overtime.

The hero wonders when he can put his arm down

and ride the waves in the mythical moonlight

of California.

My exit's coming up. I'll be home soon,

boots off, legs on the couch.

No need to set the alarm, I'm already ready.