Driving back

Hundreds of boxes of angry marbles are hitting my window
and all I see are impressionist paintings
as I sludge my way down the Thruway.
White lights come through the clouds over to the left of me
as I try to follow the specs of red off in the distance.
Traveling at fifty miles an hour as my windshield wipers nervously rush back and forth
I cut through the sky on my way home.