Tony Avila Sampson
Whistling Tires - Poem by Tony Avila Sampson
When I bent and reached there down,
The tire made a hissing sound;
I made a puncture with each blow,
Released the air and let it flow;
Now look who got that simple gift,
Some flat tires, did so swift;
See the car I'm standing near?
Has whistling tires that I hear!
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