Tuesday, November 22, 2011

MessedUpTrafficVille

Livin’ on buffets,
Been out umpteen days,
Christmas loads are hotter than heck.
Now people are shopping,      
And traffic is stopping,
This town’s turned into one big brake check.

Wastin’ my hours again in MessedUpTrafficVille.
All the cars ahead have come to a halt.
Some people say that I am nuts to live this way,
But I think – who are they to find fault.

Don’t know the reason,
Dispatcher keeps teasin’ me,
With the prospect of more time at home.
But when I’m unloaded,
My hours are noted,
And he says Bud you gotta roam.

Wastin’ my hours again in MessedUpTrafficVille
All the cars ahead have come to a halt.
Some people say that I am nuts to live this way,
But I think – they’re jealous that’s all.

Back on the blacktop,
Atlanta’s at full stop,
I grip the wheel and think about home.
If this guy hits my fender,
I just may surrender,
I can’t afford to ding up more chrome.

Wastin’ my hours again in MessedUpTrafficVille
All the cars ahead have come to a halt.
Some people say that I am nuts to live this way,
But I think – maybe I’ve just been called.

4 comments:

  1. Looking forward to Harding a rendition of this on land line now!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Does this poem have music?

    ReplyDelete
  3. The man does have a way with words!

    ReplyDelete

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