What traffic?

Din of metal pushing through air
nostrils flared from tail pipe spew
Tires squealing, engines roar, horns blare
as traffic mounts tempers brew

Snug in ‘my cell phone booth on wheels’
who bothers about traffic?
Electronic Heaven appeals
am perfectly seraphic!

Til someone cuts me off of course
purloined civility shorn
then I turn deep-rootedly coarse
hanging dumbly on the horn

+)
metal = here: vehicles