Everywhere a Sign

One day, a-weary an’ afoot,
I found me at a street to cross
A line of people stood there
None of whom were gone across

I looked it up, I looked it down
That perfectly straight street
And not one single moving car
Me rovin’ eye was there to meet

For three blocks that way and again
For three blocks that way, too
Nobody even put a key
A still parked auto to

And so I did as certain would
Any prideful maiden do
I placed me reasonable foot
The darker tar unto

Clear it became what had become
The free will those bystanders of
I heard meself abruptly hailed
From somewhere near above

And saw hovering over me
The sort of gloomy sight
Not calculated to bring any
Prideful maiden much delight

For lurking thereabouts somewhere
Not too near nor yet too far
Were the sort of folk we keep
To keep ourselves, at war

Glancing o’er their shoulders
As so many folk prefer
Anxious to aught opinion
Other than their own defer

The presence by their timorous
Eyes had been more eas’ly seen
Of horseback Bobbies ignorant
Proximal of which I had been

I got myself a lecture
On the wond’rous dangerous
Potentials of a streaking
Corner-turning city bus

Nor yet from those jackrabbit starts
Parallel-parked autos by
Which easily could flatten me —
They had to wonder why

I’d flagrant disobeyed a law
Designed me own benefit for
They couldn’t find it in their hearts
To respect me any more

But needs must issue me a slip
Indicating my penalty:
A quarter of my monthly income
Taken thus away from me

Between that morning and the one
On which I went to court
I did to contemplation
On this subject much resort

Marveling a system at
Purported justice of
Within which reas’nability
Doth misdemeanor prove

And in such wise explain
To concerned inquiry itself
By starving me for — maybe —
Hurting no one but myself

On some far and far different day
When there’d be heavy traffic on
That long straight empty silent street
Which I had set me foot upon

Now, strange to say, I happened in
The daily paper see
An article at just this time
Most int’resting to me

Appearing synchronistic’ly
As though for self specific meant
It told of an unusual
Daring experiment

In two bad intersections
Somewhere modern Europe in
For which no amount of signage
Any safety seemed to win

Each one of which saw at the least
Two hundred accidents a year —
Now operatives out from sight
Came every single sign to clear

Each “Walk/Don’t Walk,” “Turn Left,” and “Yield”
Every “Don’t You Dare Change Your Lane”
When they were through, artistic’ly
Those crossroads were pristine again

Readers, in what do you think this
Radical action then result —
Was’t palliation or instead
Aggravation that was felt;

More risk experienced, or less
The drivers of those roadways by?
— Each had two accidents that year.
They studied to determine why:

Without the artificial
Barrage loud instructions by
The people in those crossroads
Looked each other in the eye

And listened to each other, too
And nodded, waved each other on —
Became fixated their good brothers,
Not the signs, upon.



Ana Daksina View All →

A poet is the strangest sort of soul
You in this life may e'er expect to meet
More broken even while more truly whole,
Innocently intending well, more sweet

Than any but a five year old should be
Unfit to meet a callused world's demand
Or to behave aught expediently
All grace in flight; an albatross on land

Do not the all too common error make
Do not fall into the too easy trap
Avoid the fatal egoic mistake
Imagining that poet be a sap

Powerful spirits classic and antique
Give voice when poets ope their mouths to speak

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: