Temperature has reached fourty-five,
Still bright and blue,
Croopie,
Phelmy,
Out to my Chevy I go,
Stopping to potty,
I hate that I have to go sit on the corner,
Several people will drive by slow,
I will feel like a potential victim of a drive by shooting,
Will have to crank my Chevy on,
Roll down my window and explain my business on the corner of a country road,
They will tell me how glad they were that I was alive and not having car trouble,
Frankly the truth be told its annoying,
Made me wish I had a sign that said,
Not hurt,
Not sick,
Not broke down,
From Quasqueton, Iowa,
Crappy Verizon smartphone,
Val's Whitewolf Books 