Ode to the Baby Poop Gold Volvo

O, moron of the road
in your car of baby poop gold
You had to pass on the right –
racing the other moron – mid-flight

I saw you coming, my mirrors in use
That right lane ended, and you nearly in my caboose
The gentle sway of my wheels `cross that lane
Did nothing to get your attention, just disdain

I looked ahead, I had a plan
The pit maneuver, oh man!
I watched the hill rise, saw the silvery glint of the rail
If I accidentally kill you, how long am I in jail?

What they say of Volvo drivers is true:
Non-driving motherfuckers, all of you.
I know you cared naught for me on that road
Racing along, just a flash of baby poop gold.

6 responses to “Ode to the Baby Poop Gold Volvo

  1. Love it!

    I too have noticed the safety marketing campaign for those autos has left the drivers of same with some mental defect. Since they believe that they can walk away from any crash they will in fact execute stupid maneuvers.

  2. Volvo was what an aging and recovering Hippie bought when they finally realized that they had outgrown the Flower Power VW bus and the lilac “granny” glasses. When they got a job, married the significant other, had the kids names legally changed from Serendipity and Quaalude to Sarah and Quentin, and bought the three-bedroom rancher in suburbia they got a Volvo.

    Coming next the Duracell powered totally green zero emissions, zero acceleration, zero reasonable range Volvo wagon, available, of course in the ever-popular Baby Poop Gold.

  3. You guys all make me smile – and Joan, high praise from the queen of the art form – insert curtsey here.

    Ed, you have it right, as usual. Nasty little creatures, they never stop their torment of sane people.

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