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Snail Man
| Open Poetry #43 |
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Snail Man |
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mdwmr Junior Member
since 2005-12-21
Posts 10 |
I was having a nice drive and I was on my way to work; When I came across a slow moving car, thinking it was a jerk; I thought I would go around, with no big deal; Until I saw the hairy knuckles, wrapped around the steering wheel; Looking into the car I could not see a head; I didn’t want to pass him for fear of being dead; He was taking his Sunday drive, thinking speed is a crime; He always leaves on Wednesday, so he can get to Sunday on time; He always drives slowly, as careful as can be; He hasn’t driven over 20, since his model T.; Sitting in his car, he can barely see over the Dash; Only his slow speed keeps him from a crash; He always ignores traffic sign, driving in a daze; Saying they have added to many signs, since his buggy days; Being caught behind him, time seems to stand still; I'd like to pull out a rocket launcher and target in the kill; I'd like to push him forward for the speed that he does lack; If we would reach 40, he would die of a heart attack; Drive slowly to his death, I think is his plan; Until he actually dies, his is the Snail Man. Martin D. White Author Living The Simple Life Simple Life Poetry www.livingthesimplelife.com www.poetstage.com --------------------------- Publisher- Poetic Monthly Magazine www.poeticmonthly.com |
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