January 5, 2009
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As you Drive
You smooth over all the dips and dives
Cold pierces your body like sharpened knives
You look through the windshield and see a speck
Watching distracted You crane Your Neck
Breaks slam
Lanes jam You slide and wreck
Slowly slowly You emerge abashed
Hoping Wishing You hadn’t really crashed
And stand at the nose of Your car
And noticed You hadn’t gone far
It was a Traffic cone
In the middle Of a School Zone

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