On a recent Friday morning I found myself faced with a list of statutory shortcomings (provided to me by the police chief) necessitating amendments to my city’s parking regulations.  Well, I thought, there’s nothing for it but to get on with it.  Still, I wondered, is this what my 25-year career as a municipal lawyer has come to, spending a day revising the rules of on-street parking?  The question was less one of disconsolation than of amusement.  Of course, that’s what city attorneys do.  Exploring these thoughts led to the pleasure of a poem, which I share with you below.  Should this poem come to the attention of my wonderful employers, let it be known that the poem is (mostly) in jest, though serious effort went into its composition.

Dedicating a Friday to the Drafting of New Parking Rules

So, it has come
to this, after 25 years, a day
drafting new rules for parking
cars in the public rights-of-way.

Someone else is drafting
international trade policy,
affordable housing strategies,
immigration reform,

civil rights initiatives,
climate change regulations. Someone else
is changing the world while I
change the rules for where one may

park one’s car, if there is a curb,
if there is not a curb,
if the car is too far from the curb, or at an angle
to the curb, or on the curb, or too close

to a fire hydrant or stop sign or driveway, or, heaven
forbid, pointed in the wrong direction, who
is authorized to write a parking ticket, and
what the fine will be, and how quickly

the fine must be paid,
and how to appeal—yes, the Constitution gives
you due process before I can take
your $15, the right to property

and all that… the officers will be
glad to have unambiguous rules
to prevent parking pandemonium
when they have a free moment

between investigating house burglaries,
racing to domestic violence incidents,
and arresting drug dealers.
Someone must do it,

I suppose. You can park here.

(Image by nile from Pixabay)