The cop pulled out his ticket book:
'No ma'am, you may NOT go one-fifty,
we realise LA has shook,
earthquakes make freeways rather shifty.'
'We see that this blue B M Dubb
commands respect and wants to race.
Yet it's the law that is the rub,
that's why the two of us gave chase.'
She pulled her licence from her bra,
and gingerly, with trembling fingers
was reading C A L I F O R N I A,
the stereo played Meistersingers.
He dropped the licence on the ground,
instinctively she bent to get it.
His eyes had quickly searched and found
the lovely target and he dreaded
to be a man of middle class.
He would have loved to take her home
and longinly looked at her ass.
The steward called 'Welcome to Rome'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Difinately different, but still in your unmistakeable voice.