Day Eight of NaPoWriMo. The prompt:

Today, I’d like to challenge you to think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem.

I’ll let the phrase “crash for cash” drive my poem.

Crash for Cash

Put pedal to the metal,
don’t let them get away.
Faster than fast, hit the gas
if you’re gonna play.

Gotta get ahead now,
catch them in their own lane.
They won’t even know you’ve
beat them at the game.

Don’t give them time to guess;
road rage or reckless chase.
They’ll let you lead the way,
they’ll settle for second place.

Not here to win the race,
you’re here to get the prize.
Slam on the brakes, let them
hit you in the backside.

**> ~ ~ <**

They’ll say it’s your fault.
You’ll say it’s whiplash.
They say they’ll sue you.
You say you’ll take cash.

It’s how the race is run,
not about who wins the race.
Wanna know what I think?
It’s all about who sets the pace.