Inspiration today is inconvenient
despite the abundance of post-modern technology.
At least I had my Android with me
when a good line happened on that stretch of frontage road
low-balled at 35, where the other drivers saw me
swerving and speaking wide-eyed out of half my mouth
in an effort to get the smartphone's note-taking app
to pick up. I composed like that until a police Camaro
flashing red, white and blue made me recall the local ban
on vehicular poemicide. Had he asked, I would have given him
my license, insurance, and registration, and had he made me
please step out of the car sir, write a straight line while rhyming sir
your finger-tip with your nose, I'm unsure
what my blood-poem level would have been.
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