On I-88, ignoring the sign ``Slow traffic, keep right'' Plodding left of center One reptilian foot behind the next Oblivious to Cat-paws and Michelins The steel-belted radials whizzing At 55, 60 miles per hour An arrogant, cantankerous hunk of armor Hub cap high. Slow traffic, keep right. Pah. Too many fables have gone to his head Nose up, aimed for a swamp, Making tracks on the macadam Challenging the hair-raising Beasts, those tons of rushing steel With curious drivers, pointing What is that? Box turtle in the fast lane? Yes, he says: Slow traffic, keep right. We were here first, people, and Will reach the finish line Millennia from now Leaving you in the dust. Box turtle in the fast lane. Slow traffic, keep right.