orange cones close road
fixing potholes and curbs
at speed of clams; so dear
you can lay your dollar bills
tip to tip; not enough; yes
i have no doubt more taxes
i look around nobody working
might be too early fifteen to nine
they might be working at night
when it's even colder; darkness
less traffic you should say; i say
everything is block and ready
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem