A Day in a Traffic Cop’s life

He looks in my eyes,
waves his palms,
tilts his neck and says with his eyes,
come on man,
you have waited your due time,
seems long looking but you will be fine,
so, now you can,
proceed to your destination.

He has angry eyes,
and his hands and crotch to use to stop my bike,
insists I skipped the light.
I insist back I couldn’t sight,
asserts I broke the line too,
I checked down and said, I didn’t see, these are new.
Then tells me like my mama I should protect myself
wear a helmet instead,
I say it’s my head damn-ed.
So, we exchange stares for a good while,
now he wants my money,
in exchange of a receipt with a lesson.

I noticed that he has red eyes,
They look like devils,
for they smoked chemicals,
all day long.
The hot day sweat, night flashlights,
loud honks or smokey di-oxides,
seems don’t bother you anymore dear uncle.
You are now used to them.
Bound to raise your temper.

Your eyes you don’t show but they show law,
well mine show order,
they match, sometimes they don’t,
so I lower my head and turn my neck,
on my back I see another cop,
In middle of the road,
Busy, dancing, swinging, his hands flying,
stuntman guiding the traffic,
bending his back back,
shoulders swinging waving.

My watery eyes they spot lost children,
his guide them,
are compassionate,
speaks softly to them shows them way,
stretches him arms,
to the horizon away,
sweaty pits, innocent momentary smile,
just doing my job, he says,

Big rounded eyes his are staring,
at all unknown but known.
Sunnelly both hands are up,
locked to a fellow man’s.
Who though he is supposed to guide,
now scuffling because a rogue driver,
owner of a big car.