James Mclain Poet Rhyme

Standard Cruisers Have the Following Technologies In Their Cars To Arrest You

We roll beneath the cypress shade,
With radar humming through the glade—
A silent beam, it marks your speed,
Before you even see the deed.

The dash cam blinks, an unblinking eye,
Recording truth you can’t deny.
The body cam hums a steady tune,
Every whisper caught by noon.

A license plate reader scans the air,
Numbers flash—a silent snare.
If you’re wanted, or your tag expired,
It chirps—a hunter newly wired.

Computer mounts glow in the night,
Dispatch sending left and right.
GPS maps where each soul roams,
Drawing paths back to their homes.

Thermal sight through swampy dark,
Can spot a heartbeat—leave its mark.
The mic in my collar hears your plea,
And streams it straight to the deputy.

Don’t think the backseat’s just for rest—
It’s steel and shield, a lawful nest.
Your rights are read, your hands confined,
While satellites keep you in line.

So when you see that bar of blue,
Know tech and training ride there too.
We don’t just follow—we foresee,
By lens, by code, by law, by key.

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