Road Safety

Looking right, then left,
then right again, as if absorbed
in some ghostly tennis match,
I stalked across the junction
into the middle of the road.
Funny, the centre seems to be
the safest place. But anyway,
I laid the tacks
in an overlong ellipsis
and, hearing a rumble,
dashed across the remainder,
to weigh anchor in the bushes.
Through a gobo of leaves,
I saw the beast come -
a 4x4 tank
with a mum and tiny child
squirreled inside. They were going slow,
no doubt, so Junior's high-strung nature
wasn't ignited by a rushed bump.
My fingers itched
to let them pop their tyres
on my tarmac punctuation,
skid onto the verge
and explode, as I,
clad in fire-protective gear,
wrenched the bull bars off
as a totem,
then walked away.
It could have been done.
Instead, caving, I dived in front
of the muscled trundler, screaming "STOP!"
Waving my lollipop.