This morning, I experienced a scene out of one of my favorite movies.
Consequently, today’s poem is dedicated to the lady whose Toyota nearly swiped the side mirror off my Volvo.
SOUTH TO DROP OFF, MORON.
They’re not honking to say “Hello!”
They’re not waving to say “Hi!”
See, they’re staring and they’re glaring
as you drive so blithely by.
All the shouting and the swearing
that you just don’t seem to hear?
Well, it won’t relent because it’s meant
for only your ears, dear.
There’s a reason for the hub-bub,
for the anger and the noise,
for the words that parents really shouldn’t
say ‘round girls and boys.
Yet it’s clear to me you’re clueless,
so allow me to explain:
YOU’RE DRIVING THE WRONG WAY
DOWN THE STUDENT DROP-OFF LANE.
©2010 Carlotta Eike Stankiewicz