same thing only different

behind
someone in
traffic
who is moving
his head
to the beat
of his loud
radio playing
some sort of
gangsta rap,
or something
you don't quite
understand. he's
tapping his
hands upon
the wheel
as if a drum
kit. moving
his shoulders
to the sound
of what he
hears, his
shades on
tight, his
car gyrating
with the weight
and shake
of his large
body. your
windows are
rolled up,
but you can
still feel
the bass,
hear the music
from the turned
up volume. you
are listening
to frank sing
the summer
wind and sipping
on your coffee,
you are humming
quietly to
yourself. same
thing, only
different.