Cerberus

I lost a staring contest
with a black dog,
a Cerberus head
taking his ease out the window
of a two door sedan
eyeing me with great contempt
and no little humor
as we pause at a light
for his mistress to don
her mascara.

He rides forward
craning back to keep
me in his sights.
I, loyal subject
of the laws of traffic,
avert my gaze
in the safety of motion.

He seeks me still
in the cold gray noon
panting fire out the window
in polite drops,
waiting for another
change of light
or makeup.