I do not like the Mercer Mess.
Each day I like it less and less.
Each day it just gets worse and worse.
Sometimes I think I’m in a hearse.
The cars upon I-5 do mass.
They do not move; they do not pass.
Try other routes? Whatever you do,
You’ll find they’ve blocked off that street, too!
Dexter’s narrowed. Mile-long backups.
Risking two- and four-wheel crackups.
There’s much time to smell the flora,
Crawling down a packed Aurora.
I asked the city what to do,
They said, “A bicycle for you!
Or buy a condo near to town
(We hear that interest rates are down).
Or better yet, don’t make a fuss.
Just buy a pass and take the bus.”
“But wait,” I said. “Don’t make me laugh —
“The bus will take an hour and a half.
From 12 miles north a bike’s a pain
I’d catch pneumonia in the rain.”
“I’d have to transfer buses twice,
Ride through downtown, then back — how nice!
When I work late, I wouldn’t like
To be marooned at Third and Pike.”
“No, no!” the city said to me,
“You must think ecologically.
Now sell your car and save a tree —
This gridlock is good policy.”
I should emit less CO2,
I understand, I really do.
But see, I have this silly quirk:
I really have to get to work.
I do not like the Mercer Mess.
I like it less, and less, and less.
PETER A. KLEIN lives in Shoreline, Wash. When not sitting in traffic on the Mercer Street off-ramp, he works in information technology for a South Lake Union company. He also writes about and plays classical music.
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