Fair Cop Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Hissed blond constable Bond, on the beat,
to a pair there more fond than discreet:
Miss Chris Bliss miss a kiss,
give the next kiss a 'miss',
for a kiss is amiss on the street.'

Tart replied as her heart missed a beat
while she eyed him with come-on complete,
I need neither dark veil
nor a trip kip parked in jail,
both are of no avail to compete

So although some dumb blonds stroll the street
up and downtown with busty conceit,
when they're bust they find bail,
beyond bond, pause or pale,
skirting law, pawing skirt, purse replete.

Second 'fair cop' may turn on the heat
whatever excuses some bleat,
condemnation repeat
for both worker, elite,
more than 'fine' words turns sentence complete.

But one sin, once begun, can be fun,
especially when time's left to run,
though the law has its uses
life makes up excuses
to justify undone well done...