Tales from the Cryptic

Still before Christmas . . . the poem needs more (un)working, perhaps as a limerick:

Cryptic Ticket

Heading home back through Thickety Thicket,

I got a damned low-speed speeding ticket

for driving way too slow,

so I floored the board at go,

and went so fast its speed simply wasn't cricket!

Still unworking as my family and I spend our December 2021 in my boyhood home of Salem in the Arkansas Ozarks . . .