Old Boy Racer (Fun Poem 132) Poem by David Harris

While driving home one day
my old car blew up on me
and the transmission went kaput.
Upon getting another car,
I chose a smaller one,
the kind boy racers own.
Suddenly I became a speed demon
driving down the motorway doing a ton
with the wind ruffling
through the remaining hair I had.

One day while really pushing it,
blue lights began flashing behind me.
The cops told me to pull over,
which at once I did.
An officer approached my car
with me crammed behind the wheel.
'What speed do you think you were doing? '
'I don't know officer I couldn't see the speedo.'

'I clocked you at doing a 110.'
'Really! ' I said
as he wrote me out a ticket.
'I'd advise you to adjust your seat
so you can see the speedo.'
'Yes officer I will do that.' I replied.
I sat there for a moment;
a smile crept across my face.
My son will no believe it
when I show him the ticket.

He'll probably say
the Police had it wrong,
the ticket was probably for going slow.
I drove off after the Police had gone,
my foot to the floor again.
Back into my boy racer mode,
but in my case now
it was an old boy racer mode.



25-26 April 2012