The Cliche' Police

They don't nibble donuts
and sip coffee in diners
while cars speed past
the untended radars.

They review the day's verse,
pile into the cruiser,
hit the roads in search
of worn, overused parts
that beg innovation.

They've seen it all,
eyes tried and true,
as they ease up behind,
all blue lights and sirens --
you best pull over.

You don't need a license,
registration won't matter.
Get out of your car
as they approach with a smile.

"Your tail light is out,"
a kindly grandma reveals,
"screw in a new bulb,
before nightfall arrives."

"Those tires are bald,"
a buddhist monk chides,
"you need some fresh tread
to stop on a dime."

"That muffler is shot,"
a student points out,
"the exhaust system is rusted
and should be replaced."

Cliche' police return to their car
when you notice a cracked lens
on the driver's side light.
"That headlight is busted,"
you proffer, concerned,
then jump back surprised
to find lights and a siren
on the roof of your car.

Scott Speck
04/16/99