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Traffic Jam Slam


Who dresses them up and puts them in cars
gives them their keys as they leave the bars
these drivers who sit at the red light and grin
preachers out practicing Sunday’s big sin.
Somehow they think we can’t see inside
as they dig in their noses and ogle with pride
something they found that they should probably hide.
She’s putting on make-up, He’s combing his hair
the kids in the back seat wish they weren’t there.
As the light changes they make that left –SLASH
while plucking the last of their graying eyelash.
They’re texting at red lights so they tend to linger
and when you disturb them they give you the finger.
Then there are those who ride on their bikes
who haven’t matured since they fell off their trykes,
riding on sidewalks and running stop signs
dressing in outfits that require fines.
Who leaves the slow people alone on the street
stuck in the crosswalk – rush hour - dead meat.
Now we have turkeys and the Canada Goose
invading the country, just plain running loose
crossing the highways, honking at us
and if you should hit one – oh what a fuss
PETA will come with a camera and crew,
let the whole world get a good look at you.
So put on your make-up and straighten that hair
your fifteen minutes of fame is frighteningly near.


For SKAT A  slam the slam contest

John G. Lawless
5/31/2014

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