Soliloquy of the LA Driver

In an attempt to offer lighthearted relief (as well as take advantage of a bored and captive audience) I have dug through old, and previously unshared, poetry that I wrote whilst in college. My prose style tends to be serious, but for some reason I can’t help but write silly poetry. Please enjoy this parody of Robert Browning’s “Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister” which I wrote about my first few months experiencing LA traffic, after having spent the previous 18 years of my life in a town with a population of 150 people.


Gr-r-r — there go, my heart’s aversion!

Switch lanes without signaling, do!

Texas plated Ford Excursion:

Oh, we must all submit to you!

What? your dear exit approaches?

Oh, nope! You’re just weaving through lanes!

No one cares if he encroaches

For him, no traffic law pertains.


In gridlock we all sit en masse

But this guy has somewhere to go!

For we all just have time to pass

Lay on your horn, let us all know.

You are unique and paramount!

Loud noise will get you there faster

Not just some, but a fair amount.

Flawless strategy, Oh Master!


Here I am stopped at the red light

Calmly waiting my turn to go

With my windows down, I hold tight

Listening to the radio

When a rude deafening raucous

Of bad inartistic babble

Imposes itself like locusts

Sends my windows up omit dabble


Here wait I ‘turn left at the light

It’s green, but I wait until clear

It turns to yellow so I might

Take my opportun’ to turn here

But traffic flows, cars keep coming.

The light even goes to red.

This BMW running,

Leaves me high out to dry like dead!


You inconsiderate nuisance!

I’d like to see you burn in hell!

If I would give you my two cents

I couldn’t help myself but yell

A vocab of obscenities

I’d never finish this harangue

For you have identities

More than there are words we use slang.


Oh, those parking spots? If he can,

He’ll take them both, parking oblique,

So there’s no spots left for this man.

He’s careless, but we must still seek.

If I were to make an unkind

Move as such I’d get back to my

Car and a key mark I would find.

On that I can for sure rely.


There’s one great idea have I.

It is to never drive again.

I could crawl in a cave and die;

Nevermore would I see my friend.

Maybe he will get in a wreck,

One day when I’m not on the road.

All those drivers gone just a sec:

One day when traffic simply flowed.


Just think of this: I’m never wrong.

I drive perfect by Logic’s rules.

When I’m ‘n the road I move along,

To get there I have all the tools.

Conversation or distraction,

If I do rush I can fix each.

I’m on the road for the action

Drive like me, how to: cannot teach.


Perhaps I am this guy I hate

To somebody who isn’t me.

For I know when I’m leaving late

I hold myself to no decree.

But on second thought there’s no way

For when have I somewhere to be

I have a good excuse to sway.

He’s just a jerk, I guarantee.

Nothing to read here. Move along, people.

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