Iowa City Vendor Debate - The Poem

I've been trying to figure out what, if anything, I should write about the debate in Iowa City over what to do with vendors who set up shop on Melrose Ave. near Kinnick Stadium.

What to do, what to do. Not an audience I usually address. Then, I remembered that Iowa City is a City of Literature. So I knew I had to step up my game with this crowd. Couldn't go with my typical hackery.  

Then I thought, hey, poetry would be the perfect canvas on which to paint my opinions. OK, finger paint.

Here goes. And I apologize.

In Iowa City, the Hawkeyes do play.

Many times I drive down, to spend Saturday.

With ribs on my grill, a few beers, maybe chili.

We make ready for Badgers and Lions of Nittany.

It's true not all tailgates are as placid as we.

Others slurp too much beer, outdoors they do pee.

So the U and the city, with powers so large,

Began conjuring limits, and crimes they could charge.

At first, they took straight aim at rude urination.

Then at open containers of mobile libation.

Tickets were issued to those unlucky or drunk

We made sure to use potties, kept our beers in the trunk.

Now it's vendors on Melrose drawing the wrath,

Peddling T-shirts and turkey legs dubbed "big ass."

The crowds and the trash have raised local dread.

And if only those legs were tofurkey instead.

The neighbors, so angry, might call in a mover.

Never mind that the stadium's been there since Hoover.

I've never been much for the slippery slopes,

I thought doom and gloom warnings were only for dopes.

But it does make you wonder ‘bout crackdown part 3,

And at what point the nannies will come after me.

There are rules, don't you know, about noise that harms hearing.

So in the name of the law, you must stop that loud cheering.

Your brats are too fatty. Too much salt in your jerky.

Hey look over there, they just busted Herky.

That T-shirts is vulgar, those striped bibs are improper.

Better stop having fun, or we'll call in a copper.

Will they really make tailgates an unlawful vice?

The next thing you know we'll be dull like Jack Trice.

Perhaps that's far-fetched, cooler heads may steer fateThen we won't have to fear a Hawkeye (police) State.