Louise
Louise
Feb 2, 2012

Push on
Keep pushing on
If you happen to break,
Call a tow truck to help you up

Push on before it's too late
Push on, this gas won't last all day

Brittle bones, they might hurt one day
Push on, before you are in your grave.

John Moffatt
John Moffatt
Jul 27, 2012

Fuck you very much,
Indian tow truck driver
Now I owe my aunt.

Yes, I saw the sign
And yes, you are an asshole.
I guess we both are.

Fucking money, man.
It's not like I got a lot.
And now I owe more.

Fuck you, native friend.
You were just doing a job.
I'm just pissed off now.

Norma Hernandez
Norma Hernandez
Feb 27, 2013      Feb 27, 2013

If life is a highway, what's the number for AAA?

'Cause I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere,
my tires are stuck in mud of insecurities,
windshield cracked with the force of self-doubt
and the meter is nearing "E".

I need a tow truck,
to lift me out of this mess and
pull me out of this metal debris.

And sure,
I'll have to lug that piece of **car
but at least I'll have some help
getting it home safe.

Inspired by the words of the bus driver who takes me to work every morning: Tow trucks - the people who lift you up when you think life's got you beaten and down.
michael gagain
michael gagain
Apr 28, 2013

Edit




• by michaelfixer
• 15 hours ago, Apr 27, last seen 2 minutes ago
• © michael gagain













i'll make him an offer he can't refuse....

he must understand the car...it is used



i been here before...can't do it again

the car is a clunker

my wife called it a junker



i will go back to the ads...

and set my sights on a jag

before i give this fool my cash



oh.......one hundred bucks

in that case i will try my luck



if it does not work

or i get it stuck in the muck

i'll simply..call and get a tow truck



Author notes

keskhea
keskhea
Aug 1, 2013      Aug 2, 2013

loneliness clings to me like wet paint
so I walk the streets at night
leaving behind neon footsteps

traces of your absence
color the asphalt
blue on black
the wind is cold
but at least it touches me.

I have grown more intimate with the rain
you are unfamiliar.

my brother's phone vibrates
and I remember when the sound
was once
yours.

I am lonely
and I am sorry for this.

I hang on you like a noose
I am the weight you drag
the useless end of a tow truck

I know I shouldn't need you as much as I do
it is unhealthy
it is unfair

kill me.

like all parasites,
I must die
so you can explode like the amazing fireworks display you were always meant to be
or burn burn burn, you infinite star..

spontaneous. needs editing. suggestions?
Jackie Harrington
Jackie Harrington
Jun 26, 2013

Friendship is like the glue that holds  a cracked vase together
You know that you will never be perfect again
But that glue will always remain
And in times of need
Friendship is the sun that warms you up
Lifts you up
Keeps the clouds away
And when the bond is strong
Drama nor distance can rip it apart
Strong today
Strong from the start
And when you've hit a bump in the road
Friendship is your tow truck
They always say lift your head up
And at the end of the day you can look back at all the pain
Realize where you are now and smile it away
Friendship is that smile on your face
So appreciate it everyday

Marles
Marles
Apr 8

This started out as a joke.
Everything I've ever seen is piled on top of my back.
Suddenly you're here and I know you're going to drag me around like a wagon.
Problem is, I only have axles; my tires wore out a long time ago.
I'm only fifteen.
I'm going to erode slowly and your muscles will snap like elastics.
It doesn't matter how much you lift, I'm much too heavy to carry.
Gravity can't even control me.
Spend your money on a new car instead of a worn down one with a ripped leather interior and a radio that skips every second word.
Please don't waste your time being my tow truck.

#cars   #burden   #wagons  

If your car could talk,
It would speak of shirtless days
And pantless nights.
It would wince,
Remembering our voices,
Out of key and raised on high
Singing to every song we know.
If your car could talk,
It would cry
Thinking about when
We broke its little window
With a tow truck hook.
It would seethe
Remembering how we dismembered it,
Trying to start it without a key.
If your car could talk,
It would tell the world
Of our long drives
To destinations we never reached,
And our need to kiss
At every stop sign and red light.
Oh, dear,
If your car could talk,
It would tell on us.

For Trevor
Danny
Danny
Jan 30, 2011

I broke my key in the ignition but at least I brought a spare
It would be much more convenient if I got the other one out of there
So I struggled for a while, then whistled to keep my pulse low
I've got anger issues, Darlin', but I don't want you to know

Flash forward to the future, I am on the telephone
Standing in a forest fire, but at least I am alone
You were picked up by your mother but I stayed with the car
As the world crumbles around me, I just ask you where you are

(Should you ask the tow truck driver why he chose to 'forget' me
He might say something suggesting "the road was blocked by a tree"
But assuredly my travel back on foot was fairly clear
My walk was without struggle once I let go of my fear)

I had trekked out of harms way into the safety of the town
but walked further hoping that an ice cream shop would be around
It's funny what pops in your head after your worries go away
Something cold and sweet seemed like the perfect way to end the day

I didn't even like that car. The previous owner had written her name in the dashboard with a putrid coloured nail polish in some off brand that doesn't come off with nail polish remover; or sand paper for that matter. It wasn't until a few days ago that I considered it not to be nail polish at all. I thought I had seen someone wearing the colour on her toes one day at the grocery store, but it turned out that she just tripped on a cinder block that her boyfriend had left in the living room just outside of the kitchen doorway. For a good 5 seconds I thought to myself 'maybe that's what happened to the dashboard' before chuckling to myself and ending the conversation with the poor lady.

the caw, was  heard,
it was a crow, the bird,
black in daylight,
shredding with the
pointed beak and skill,
probably road kill,
or a left over side of fries,
in a paper brown bag
with arches, golden,
the risk of being in
the roadway was worth,
the treasure and the squabble
with his or her crow friends
and one attention deficit gull,
                             he was dull,
and slower than the others,
he was white among his black
feathered brothers, sisters
they are smart
these crows as
they knows them
cars that pass just, so
close keep the curb in
reach and don't go
beyond the line,
while the gull of the sea,
would walk on the out
side of the circle nearer
to traffic and cars swiftly,
rush by, the crows kept
moving pushing the gull
toward the road way,
he had stepped over the line
assumed they were friends,
they all knew he would get
it in the end, the front end
of a rusty tow truck.

Road kill to share, poor gull
don't stare, just be quick,
and beak it
while it is still fresh.


©DWE102013

 
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