Wyatt B. Flat is truly my name,
And punishment awaits those who I blame;
With a long knife that I swiftly swing,
Brings from a tire the sound of air leaking;
Some found their cars sitting lopsided or low,
Cause it gives me a thrill to get even, you know;
At each tire, with force, be the knife I thrust,
It releases the air inside with a windy gust;
The air, when cut free, makes a loud gushing sound,
And with quickness them rims go down to the ground;
I may, while slashing 'em, just suddenly stop,
Just to watch, with joy, the way they drop;
I may even give 'em a second quick slice,
Cause I don't care about the cost nor price;
Gettin' all four, leaves a car that can't go,
Then comes the surprise to find the need for a tow;
Oh, the inconvienence they get while they foot the bill,
But for Wyatt B. Flat, there be laughter and thrill;
Tony Avila Sampson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wyatt-b-flat/
