On I80 East, not far from Reno,

there’s the sign announcing:

SLOW TRUCKS.

And me with ten-hour’s drive

 

behind me and God only

knows how many more

to go, forced to wonder

why. Perhaps they cut

 

too many corners in school,

hadn’t tested well

on the curve, been

found smoking in the back

 

of the room near the radiators.

Or simply not greased enough

palms of oily instructors

in auto shop. But in the end,

 

who really knows these things?

And then a few miles up

the road it all becomes clear

as a defrosted windshield.

 

A sign: EDUCATION

CENTER NEXT RIGHT.

Summer school for Peterbilts

who have not mastered

 

the metric system?

Hyundais who have failed

English as a second language?

Or maybe, just maybe

 

I have it all wrong.

It’s a makeup course

for those who haven’t

mastered the art

 

of how to let

faster cars pass

on the left

without getting angry

 

and blowing their stack

or perhaps simply failing

in the subtle art

of the graduated incline.