It's time once again
To hit the road
And jump into the Ponzi scene 
Of summer touring. 
We pack the van 
Like a sardine can
And roll out. 
Westbound I-10. 
We're four deep 
On this tour:
Me, Greg, Kentay, & Glom.
Round Lake Charles,
The rear driver's side tire 
Starts wobbling
And shaking the whole van
Like a washing machine
On spin cycle. 
What the fuck?
I speed up,
Slow down,
Change lanes,
Jiggle the wheel,
Do just about 19 other idiotic things 
That probably appear odd
To other drivers 
In order to deduce 
What exactly is the MFing problem. 
Well, the problem is this:
The piece of shit used tire
I bought last week
Is a piece of shit. 
We exit, locate a tire shop,
And purchase a new tire
From a 1980s kickboxing champion 
Who was ranked fifth 
In the world
Or the country 
At one time. 
Interesting guy.  
Good ol'boy. 
"If I had to do it all again,
I wouldn't, he says.
"Too many shots to the head.
I got screws loose."
Don't we all, my man. 
Don't we all. 
And on that note,
Like four monkeys
On a unicycle,
We climb back in the sweaty van
And politely motor off 
Into the horizon 
To get screw-loose
In the tremolo wonder 
Of tomorrow. 

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