Mae Scanlan : The Joy of Gloating

You’re cruising on the highway, at a normal rate of speed,
When a chap pulls up behind you, with an overriding need
To hassle you – get in your face; and then he starts to weave
From lane to lane with tactics no sane driver would believe.
In time you hear a siren sound; the madman has to stop,
And out of a police car gets a mean and angry cop.
You feel so good you have to grin; it’s worth a hundred tuppence
To see a person you don’t like receive a good comeuppance.

You enter a short story contest; think you have a chance,
And hope that what you’ve written  merits more than just a glance.
Alas, another’s wondrous words, on which you haven’t reckoned,
Corral first prize.  That’s how it goes.  And you, you come in second.
But after he has won, it turns out every word was stolen
From someone else.  The whole thing. Down to every semi-colon.
He’s in disgrace.  And what a thrill!  It’s worth a thousand tuppence
To watch a rotten cheater get a justified comeuppance.

The leader of your city is a fellow liked by most;
Of what he’s done, and how he’s done it, he’s inclined to boast.
He stands up tall at City Hall, adorned with smug expression,
That is, until today, when he is forced to make confession,
As he’s embezzled hefty funds from sacred city coffers,
And given cushy jobs to those who’ve made the highest offers.
Titillating!  Satisfying!  Worth a million thruppence,
Watching how the mighty fall and get their due comeuppance!