Early Morning Nu'uanu

I'm a few minutes later than usual
and I blame every red light
on the odd time I left the house
and on the left-turning cars.
I focus on the clock,
barely noticing the radio chatter.
There's no real need to worry;
I don't want to go to work anyway.
And on Nu'uanu,
where the homeless claim shop doorways for the night,
a woman with unshaped hair
is belly dancing on her bedding pile,
curving her wrists and popping her hips
staring across the road
as if no cars passed,
as if no drivers turned their heads.