As I went over Swantson Street --
   Bewildered in that crowded place --
A restless man I chanced to meet
   Who waved his great arms in my face,
Like some grave robot rooted there,
   With gestures wide and most absurd
He turned about and sawed the air;
   Yet, seeming dumb, he spoke no word.

Now, with a movement passionate
   He thrust an arm before his girth
As one who, irked by iron fate,
   Renounces all this wicked earth;
And now, as men in Caesar's day
   Gave greeting, raised it to its top.
So I'd no choice.  One must obey
            The traffic cop.

"Den"
Herald, 27 March 1929, p8