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Poetry: Driving humor

by Cyn Bagley

The Predhead Goes to Court

The Judge was dressed in raven robes
high above the crowd.
He motioned to the recorder
who read the charges loud.

"You ran a traffic light
at a hundred and one.
You crashed into the Walmart
and crunched a dozen buns."

She stood rather tall.
She stood rather straight.
She enunciated
with knowledge and grace.

"How do I plead,
your honor," she said.
She checked her notes
and nodded her head.

"I plead not guilty
by reason of insanity.
Prednisone makes me
GOSH DANG crazy."

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