Can't You Stay Home Until Self-Driving Cars Arrive?

You, there, somebody's grandpa, couldn't you
Try to drive the posted speed? Couldn't you
Go when the light turns green, and know
In advance where you'd like to be going?
Must you be so incredibly cautious?
The tables are accurate: everyone's old,
And, though I am no youngster, I can't
Bear the slowness imposed by these others
My age.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 33 times
Written on 2020-11-18 at 19:08

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