John F. McCullagh (09/28/1954 / Flushing)
Each day I drive the Belt to work
with a million other slobs.
We pilot cars a decade old.
We're lucky, we have jobs.
Being stuck in traffic is no fun
so my eyes search for distraction.
Your bumper- stickered Civic
offers motorists didaction.
You've no shortage of opinions,
you're a child of hope and change.
gay women for abortion rights?
forgive me, that seems strange.
You're all for education,
and it seems you're down on God
Your promotion of vasectomy
strikes me as rather odd.
We creep along at walking speed
in the misnamed morning rush
I smile at one old sign that reads:
'Lesbians against Bush'
I change lanes and creep up beside
this most amusing creature.
Shock and awe is what I felt-
She is our children's teacher!
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Autodidact by John F. McCullagh )
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