BS Paris Primer More

Outside my door
Your 4x4
I cannot see
The sun no more

I do all I can
To pass the van
That turns the sky
From blue to tan

It is not lost on me
That this exhaust
Is killing us
And melting permafrost

This rig
Is really big
I count 18
Whirligigs

High on octane
In drizzling rain
Weaving in and out
For the faster lane

Old pickup truck
Makes me suck
Fumes into my lungs
WTF

Dam
Again I am
Stuck in an endless
Traffic jam

Diesel fumes
Build up in plumes
And slowly fill
The living rooms

The SUV
In front of me
If traffic stalls
I cannot see

18 wheeler
Sets out her nasty feeler
My rear view mirror is too small
But I can almost feel her

A PARIS PRIMER