one wintry day
in a swirl of mud and snow
a police car came screaming
along the street
insufferably arrogant
as usual
pushing and shoving
its way through traffic
the funny thing was that
no matter how smug it acted
it could not shake off
the coat of snow that covered it
and made it look identical
to every other car
all crawling like hearses
and that’s why it was upset
as it passed by
a poet who happened to be
trudging across the road
got splattered from head to toe
with mud thrown up by its filthy wheels
what he saw
made him suddenly felt like crying
associating what he had just witnessed
with the ambiguous connection
between this police car
of the state
and the idea that
poetry is like snow