Ode to an Eighteen Wheeler
Naked-ladied are thy mudflaps
and powerful thy thrust
down pulsing ways and interstates
adorned with diesel dust,
pooty-poo! Pooty poo!
Thy manly chrome, it glitters.
Thy tremulous wheels, they spin.
"Amalgamated Grocers"
says your flank against the wind,
hooty-hoo! Hooty-hoo!
Oh, heaven hath not made thee,
thou art the work of man.
Yet Jesus sits inside your cab
and rambles o'er the land,
Jeezy do! Jeezy do!
What grandeur thine, I envy it:
you're better than a pickup truck.
I'd rather ride around in you
than eat or drink or fight or tuck in my shirt,
tucky-yoo! Tucky-yoo!
Sent as a joke to poetry.com
