Ode to Traffic Cops
source: http://globalpoliticalawakening.blogspot.com/2011/01/ode-to-traffic-cops.html
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- GLOBALPOLITICAL
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The other day I was driving home, just minding my own business, when I passed by a cop sitting on the side of the road, running radar. I had that natural, automatic reaction, where I glanced down anxiously at my speedometer to make sure I wasn't accidentally going a little faster than I intended. The cop pulled out behind me.
As I watched him in my rear view mirror, I became a little more anxious. Is he running my plate? Was my inspection sticker the wrong color? Could he tell I wasn't wearing my seat belt? Was my plate lamp out? Did I do something wrong? Fortunately, he only followed me a few blocks before he turned onto another street without pulling me over.
Once my anxiety subsided, and I realized that I had safely gotten away with driving past a cop, I immediately became angry that I had to feel anxious in the first place. It makes me sick that the people who are supposed to be protecting and serving us, funded by our tax money, are lining themselves up along roadsides to extract more money from us. Police couldn't care less about biting the hand that feeds them -- it's not like we can refuse to pay them because we don't like how they operate. They've become cash registers with badges (and guns) -- a puzzling combination of mafia henchmen, vampires, boy scouts, and the fat kid in high school who thought he was cool because he played football.
Anyhow. . . when I got home that night I was still thinking about it, and continued to do so as I was falling asleep. Then it hit me: I'll write a poem about it! Enjoy, this rare masterpiece!!! (Just to be extra-sarcastic I'm going to format it to look really special -- like a real poem)
read more http://globalpoliticalawakening.blogspot.com/2011/01/ode-to-traffic-cops.html
As I watched him in my rear view mirror, I became a little more anxious. Is he running my plate? Was my inspection sticker the wrong color? Could he tell I wasn't wearing my seat belt? Was my plate lamp out? Did I do something wrong? Fortunately, he only followed me a few blocks before he turned onto another street without pulling me over.
Once my anxiety subsided, and I realized that I had safely gotten away with driving past a cop, I immediately became angry that I had to feel anxious in the first place. It makes me sick that the people who are supposed to be protecting and serving us, funded by our tax money, are lining themselves up along roadsides to extract more money from us. Police couldn't care less about biting the hand that feeds them -- it's not like we can refuse to pay them because we don't like how they operate. They've become cash registers with badges (and guns) -- a puzzling combination of mafia henchmen, vampires, boy scouts, and the fat kid in high school who thought he was cool because he played football.
Anyhow. . . when I got home that night I was still thinking about it, and continued to do so as I was falling asleep. Then it hit me: I'll write a poem about it! Enjoy, this rare masterpiece!!! (Just to be extra-sarcastic I'm going to format it to look really special -- like a real poem)
read more http://globalpoliticalawakening.blogspot.com/2011/01/ode-to-traffic-cops.html
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treewolf39
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Nice poem. I know that feeling. It is the feeling of being scared of the bully.
- 1 year ago
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treewolf39
