Tire

A Poem

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Silver truck drives past, brown orange ancient wheel standing up in the back — defies 29 km/hr wind coming out of the boreal mouth — gods, that thing loves to screech, push the tires all over the road

but not strapped to the bed, not crushed into new purpose — fucking lawn ornament — why do we let old shit rot in front for everyone to witness dying —