Ben John Smith

Nice Days

The copper gives me a
speeding ticket and a
two hundred and
sixteen dollar fine.

He says
Have a nice day

and pats the
roof of my car.

The road to this point,
after about 3 or 4 hours
of flat foot driving
has been paved with,
at the very least,
one million
road kill
kangaroos.

Nice days are like this.

Even in all its irony.

Nice days are the ones
that back door you
while reaching around
and cupping your balls
like a tea spoon
cradling an emu egg.

Dead kangaroos and
speeding fines.

It sounds like the
perfect title
for a really bad
poem
about
nothing.

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