Up
My problem with cops is my problem with power:
Up
by Bob Hicok
That cloud does a mean imitation of a cloud, in that no cloud can sit still for a portrait or to learn how to drive a car, even if it has an automatic transmission, though some people drive like a drunken cloud if you read the notes cops make at the bottom of tickets, including “I feel so alone” on the last one I got, for going sideways in a state of confusion in a straight ahead with purpose zone. My problem with cops is my problem with power: few of us should have it because most of us want it, and most of us are OK with stepping on ants. But clouds want nothing but to get on with coming together and falling apart, beautifully if possible, though not to them, given their lack of mirrors and eyes and all sorts of other things, such as the ability always, and the need sometimes, to scream.
Oh GOD, Bob! Most of us are way too okay with stepping on ants. Most days I can't stand it. Most days I don't have the space to scream even if I have eyes and use them to see how most of us step repeatedly and often on all the ants of this world and keep on walking as if we're clouds without eyes or even clouds without gear shifts which might help us to notice if we even wanted to notice which most of us with eyes and cars don't.