Stefan looks back over his shoulder
to check the blind spot, just a split second
before changing lanes. But his gaze lingers
on the car in the next lane
or perhaps the trailing school of vehicles
that reminds him of shoals off the Aleutians
during World War II, when fish were abundant
and the Japanese fleet was in decline,
actually falling off a cliff face-first,
not like their automakers today,
struggling with industrial maturity and a strong yen,
like a man in a three-piece suit sitting alone
in a dark study with two fingers of Suntory whisky,
fascinated by the recalls and VW’s surge,
then wondering when the Dreamliner
will take to the skies again.