“Ma’am did you know your tail light is busted, your license is expired.
Why weren’t you wearing a seat belt?”
“No sir and yes sir, and I forgot sir,”
I said through a not-too-pitiful
But a have-mercy-on-me-smile,
the kind that says Officer Male Authority,
I’m civilian powerless girl.
While he’s gone, another cop pulls up.
I dream of a day I won’t have to kiss ass
Like a rich man on vacation
“Is there a reason you were speeding, sir?”
“Yeah I’m trying to get there faster.”
I beg and plead
I pout and cry
I lie and comply.
“Today’s your lucky day, I’m only writing you up for the seat belt.”
And if you say, “Buckle up.”
I’ll reach out of this poem and smack you.
Maybe they’ll spend my fine on justice
Maybe it’s better my money not go to the
“Thank you officer, I really appreciate it.”
Today I returned the new-shiny-brand-name-clearance-perfect-fit-shoes.
I actually felt like a victim
No new shoes
No more money
And I’ll probably die of cancer
Because of the combustible engine and Thomas Edison and capitalism and god dammit
I’m one of the lucky ones to meet a fate
Outside of famine and drone attacks.
I light a cigarette ‘cause what’s one less (or one more)
Breath of petroleum products?
Officer-Saved-Me-Some-Money got me thinking
I should empty my bank account
and gives it to that old man by the exit ramp
or better yet pay for us to ride the bus all day and bar hop
or watch butterflies at the metro park,
Throwing pennies in the pond
Eating Cheetos and drinking off-brand Mountain Dew.