Both sons in the back seat
south on the Parkway
to the Shore for the day
they’ve been fighting all morning.
They are
getting to me.
Knock it off, I say or I’m
turning this car around.
Born five years apart,
they laugh and egg each other on.
They do not knock it off, and I,
I am sick of it, I’ve had it.
Next exit Irvington.
I take the exit
then a left, then another.
Now we’re back on the Parkway
this time headed
back north.
Now the sound
of someone weeping.
It’s my wife.