Post more comments
Want a gift card for being active Forum member? Post comments and win $25 gift card every week.
Rules: will be giving away gift cards (worth $75 in total) every week to first three members ($25 each) who participate most in our forum discussions. You just have to post comments on forum pages, poet pages or poem pages anywhere inside
Comments posted needs to be in different pages. Posting more than 1 comment on the same page will only be counted once.
Members can not post comments without being logged in. has the right to cancel or edit this contest. has a right to disqualify or ban member(s) without providing any type of reason, belief or proof in regards to any type of illegal activity or fraud.

Cretan Maineiac

(April 29,1961 / Lewiston, ME USA)

Construction Constriction

FLAGGER AHEAD stopped up the
Train of
Oncoming Traffic w/ a simple

STOP sign, speared into the gravelly ground in a
manner reminiscent of
Admiral Peary or Neill Armstrong, Flagger's regimental

colors allowing dumptruck and
backhoe their
play, prisonorange barrels &

cones marking the campaign trail ('there's
two seasons in
Maine: wintah and construction') of infrastructural repair &

FINES DOUBLED a firm counterpoint to
scheduling conflicts ('what
took you so long? ') .

*Do i see what i see?
Is Flagger's left hand directed toward my lane?
Daring to assume the authority formerly reserved for the Sign? ? ? *

Dumptruck & backhoe snorted as i
stomped the
brakes, my RUSH-stamped

package & Ramtough
Intimidator on my
rear bumper alike forced to


*Whatdafuckyouneedbot hlanesfor? ! ? ! *

Armstrong-Peary Flagger glared like the
RushHour sun @
Intimidator, but

*Howdafuckwesupposedtoknowwegottastopw henyougotthe
facingtheotherway? *

>>>I gotta' be to
-work ('...oversleep? ')
-home ('Where were you? ')
-school (at 4 PM?)
-'the Children! ! ! '<<<

Exasperated & dripping in prisonorange-
vested sweat drowning
black flies down his neck, Flagger turns the Sign so that

STOP commands the
Intimidator &
me as it did the stopped-up

Train of oncoming traffic, which
took this slue from STOP to
SLOW as a cue to proceed...

and the dumptruck & backhoe snorted

Construction constriction less reason than rhyme
Part of the fun of the some-sum-summer time.

Submitted: Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Edited: Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Construction Constriction by Cretan Maineiac )

Enter the verification code :

  • David Desantis (7/7/2008 9:58:00 AM)

    heheh i get the idea that this is intentionally vague and confusing...really fun word play is a pain in the ass! (Report) Reply

  • Scarlett Treat (6/18/2008 10:58:00 AM)

    I nearly got hit by a truck just this morning, and the signal holder had told me to go, but the guy on the side of the road was also waving on the man driving the big black truck that nearly wiped me out....Welcome to Mississippi, Toyota! ! ! (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley Updates

New Poems

  1. Example, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. Service, Edgar Albert Guest
  3. The Call, Edgar Albert Guest
  4. Tears Of Bereavement, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  5. Denial, Edgar Albert Guest
  6. 87 kilometers away from you, Utsav Patel
  7. Clueless, Utsav Patel
  8. Soulfully Speaking, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  9. Karmic lessons, Nalini Chaturvedi
  10. Significant Hope, RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name;
There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame;
But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart
...... Read complete »

[Hata Bildir]