Substandard Tires The customer rants and raves at me saying it’s all my fault And my colleague’s and my employer that he’s got no family He threatens all of us with court and is off to see the judge You’ll be in the dock all together he warns for ****** Treating me like I’m the CEO and God of ACME Tires I just answer the phone and reply to emails I never made the substandard tires on his car That failed and killed his daughter wife and sister He rants and raves and it lasts an hour All recorded he states finally stopping If I was employed by the Illuminati Making cups of tea would he sue me? For not making his tea sweet enough Now I nod and say what an ******* I’m so glad he can hear me His tires will soon fail…
ACME TIRE FACTORY The system was so slow to use and the boss was always on our back Hurry hurry get your fingers out this job depends on you I’ll fire your sorry arses if you go any **** slower! My company and big fat profit depend on you lazy gets doing this job right Don’t dawdle and stop gossiping about your Saturday nights I’ve checked the order already and it’s only half done and needs to be sent For that you can work thru your dinner hour without pay and eat after work See what a good boss I am to you all I will treat you at Xmas And so it went on day by week by month by year by decade ACME TIRE FACTORY was always this way with a slave boss And unhappy ******* workers who were no better than slaves Why did we stay in the job when there was the dole doing nothing? We were all mates and drank together every Saturday to forget this Plus we also worked deliberately slowly to **** the boss off We could live without eating dinner when our boss was upset Our tools and line was ok but outdated so we milked it It was us who ran the tire factory not him and he knew it We could shut him down or burn his company without interference We made 2 out of 3 vehicle tires on North American roads Why change a good thing when we hated but loved it?
I watched the world spin from the windshield of this old car. I felt the slip of the bald tires, My hands tighten around the wheel, And I screamed. I screamed but somewhere in all of that mess, That chaos, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew I was going to live, Despite totaling my car.
I never was a fan Of buckling in a van And sitting To mostly go Where I never wanted.
I never found it a thrill Scrunching my body In every vehicle my grandparents leased Every time my family and I would visit. And, isn’t it ironic How I’m the middle child of my family And the middle seat in the back would always be available Especially for me?
Traveling on a road For more than an hour Feels like a breeze after a time. But somehow the shorter car rides Seem to take forever, The basic mile perceptually elongated. Just my luck.
Everything I have done, Every activity my parents rode me too Required my AIS And patience toward whichever parent Navigated.
I almost begin to believe That traffic roads have a treadmill mechanism To illusion travel and make one believe That the wheels spin forward, But I think they lag atop the same gravel Much too long for my patience and time.
As I crave for a hurry in life When time slowly fumbles, I wonder if I would get to where I want to be faster If I took the wheel.
I cannot say how many times I find myself in a car on a weekly basis. I'm not in a car too often during the day, but often enough to write a poem about taking a seat and riding lol.
I'm tired of being told to start again, I'm done with all drizzles of rain, All I got is darkness inside me, And my demons beside me.
You say they're evil again! I'm so tired to be angel again. Let me be the satan for life And then i'll be in hell again.
Hah! this misery can't you see? All you wanted is to get freed Nothing's gonna stop you so far my love Why my words when they are buried, Why my words when they are buried.
Have you ever been there? Where you are the one with yourself only because there is no one Hell no one who can be with you without any reason and that's the freaking point you learn to get hooked up with yourself. -R'ag
The poison is in all of us: Half-smoked cigarettes lay on the side of grainy gravel paths, crinkly Dollarama bags and glass beer bottles. We relax on trees leaning backs against the braille texture of bark that tries to speak to us in a language we don’t understand. We lean back and raise our faces towards the sunlight dancing between the leaves of the canopy, listening to the tires whizzing against concrete, but think it similar to the smacking of waves against stones; lean back and savour the syrupy smell of maple trees against our tongues, thinking to ourselves how grateful we are for nature as we sit in a paradise of tall trees their branches intertwined in a space smaller than bathroom stalls; lean back and breathe in exhaust and cigarette smoke masked behind a layer of sweet antiperspirants and coconut-scented shampoos as the wind whips hair against your face. We take peaceful naps against the undeciphered braille, but the poison is in all of us and one day this paradise will become nothing. A bed of dirt blanketed by prickly store-bought strips of grass.
the city and it's music every changing the city and it's music daily rearranging
you can hear the distant thunder kept in time by city drums a beat of urban tires that makes the city roadways strum the wind blows through the subway you can hear the wires hum it's the city making music shut your eyes and listen some
the band has no conductor there are horns and there are strings there's a bass back from the buses listen to the joy it brings it's a concert in the city by the city and it rings the bells from downtown churches and the piegeons flapping wings
you've an orchestra around now listen close, it never stops from the cars racing through downtown to the whistle blowing cops it's a different kind of music it's got a rhythm that just pops it's a gritty harder sound that echos to the building tops
cars, trucks, people walking all are part of this great band and the best part of this music is it's spread across the land each song you hear is different nothing ever comes out planned each city has a cadence listen close, the show's at hand....