Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PARADISE LOST, by BERTON BRALEY



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PARADISE LOST, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: When I sat at the wheel of the fire chief's car
Last Line: At the wheel of the fire chief's car.
Subject(s): Automobiles; Driving & Drivers; Firefighters; Labor & Laborers; Wheels; Cars; Work; Workers


When I sat at the wheel of the fire chief's car
I could drive like a streak of light
And not even the traffic cop could bar
The course of my headlong flight.
For the fire chief's car had the right of way
And it laughed at the speed laws, too,
And the motor cops hadn't a word to say
When I used to go whooping through.

Oh, Lord, it was great when my siren sang
And the traffic would let me by,
And I laughed as I drove with a zip and bang
With the lever locked in high;
But now I'm back in a private job
It seems like I have to crawl
And drivin' a car has lost its throb
And it isn't no fun at all.

For I've got to stop for the traffic cop
And the motor cop hollers, "Hey!
I'll summons you into court, old top,
If you hit it up that way!"
And I'm blocked by trucks and by flivvers too,
And it sure does rasp and jar
On the nerves of a guy who once shot through
At the wheel of the fire chief's car.





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