I drank lucky seven coffee cups of water,
logged off of my sysadmin account on the Prime 400,
pleaded with my office mate to hurry move his truck,
slid my car down the slippery parking structure ramps,
and headed south from Santa Monica on the 405.
Traffic inched. Crept. I read a VW's bumper sticker.
Whip Inflation Now. Whi pIn flat ion No w.
ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. OW.
I began to scream as loud as I could,
there on the 405, just south of Rosecrans.
Don't think anyone noticed.
forward anywhere lines