The True Stories Are The Best, And The Best Deserve Many Likes And Comments

A spin across the border

Up to Canada I go

But as the guards interrogate

My engine starts to slow.

A bit of coaxing later

There’s a spitter-sputter-spop!

And off I go, yet unaware

I won’t make it to my stop.

I travel down the highways

91 and 99

Going Northward to Vancouver

And my truck’s still going fine.

I pull into a left turn lane

And my heart can only drop

‘Cause the green arrow says “go”

And my engine says “nah, stop.”

And so I try a jump start

To no avail, I hate to say.

911 responds and sends

A friendly tow truck on its way.

The nicest driver ever

Hooks up chains and ropes and all

And we drive back to America

Truck as f***ed up as Darth Maul.

Now a tow truck is a large machine

That can’t turn on a dime

And the driver drops me kindly

At the border crossing line.

I wait and wait and wait and wait

Until the light turns green

And thus begins the uphill push

Of my alternator-less machine.

I push up to the crossing

Halfway out and halfway in

$270 Canadian poorer

But back where I said “begin.”

So for a second tow I wait

Watching hour hands tick by.

If this poem’s unusually thoughtful, well

You know the reason why.

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