Scofflaw

[Wilyem Clark]

"Wait-wait-wait!"
These talking crosswalks prate,
But I'm impatient standing here on hold;
Shall I risk it? Shall I be bold
And step into the lane too soon?
A video eye may catch me passing
Against the light, but a peevish sassing
From robo-voices does not concern me—
Those unthinking wardens do not discern me,
Even now in the klieg-like brightness of noon.
So I trudge across, unaware that a cyclist
Is barreling through—this fellow named Mike missed
The memo on caution at intersections.
The guy clips me hard, and we make two connections:
Arm to arm at the elbow, and shin against shin.
We both tumble, sprawling
And scraping, and bawling
For medical intervention and care;
And wouldn't you know it! to answer our prayer,
An ambulance crashes into the Schwinn,
Ironically killing its owner, Mike,
Whereas I survive on the curb by the pike,
For you see, I obeyed those sightless warners,
I stayed where I was, and joined spectator-mourners
To watch bemused medics collect bone and skin.