Pedestrian at a Crosswalk

you drove that big, blue, fuming truck up the circular drive. 
a limp cigarette was slung between your fingers
and i walked plainly across the road.

you hollered Speed it up, faggot! and then you coughed, flicking bits of ash out the open window.

i squared my shoulders and slowed my gait, singing
the mantra-song my mother taught
"I am a child of God."

i hope that in the time you waited while i sauntered and sang
i irritated the hell out of you.