Evening Commute

I don't have any new material but I have a smart phone and two eyes. And so another late departure from work. Swing out of St. Charles Street and down Broadway to the highway entrance. Of course I drive. This is middle-size city America. If I took public transportation the trip would be three times longer.    

A song lyric by the incumbent Nobel laureate for literature has it that the sun's not yellow, it's chicken.