I'm trailer trash
And you're the tattered wheels
Run me over
Vilipended shrew
This place is full of
Rabid raccoons
And collect calls
Someone's got to pay
Maybe we can milk
A cash cow
Or plant a money tree
Between grandma
And the shed
A game of miniature golf
Always helps my mind
Get back on par
(More or less)
Then it's back to the bus stop
And be done with you
BLT's continued challenge - to write a poem using the Merriam-Webster word of the day, vilipend.