96 Street platform, 2/3 train, January 24th, 2014
The guy next to me has the words “Scofflaw Agent” on his electric yellow jacket. I think it’s fake terminology, so I ask him about it. I’m mistaken. He’s the real thing. I ask him to write a poem. He asks me to get him started. “Tell me about the life of a scofflaw agent…”
Life of an Agent
I get no sleep looking
for cars, I’m so tired but
I gotta get by. Working all
morning and I see no end.
My whole body hurt ohh god
I am in pain.
Once you pay a lot of
loot, They call me to
release your boot.
It takes a long time
So do not whine,
If you pay
your ticket I’ll be your men.