By: Michele Walsky
Aghast, no space in sight!
“BBQ fair,” my carpool squealed in delight
“Cone,” I groaned, circling in plight
Diagonal, sideways, angled, no use
Every spot was taken, it was becoming obtuse
Forget it, I’d say if it wasn’t for class
Good gravy, so jammed, students parked on the grass!
“Hurry”, I prayed, following walkers afar
Instead, they tossed books and grabbed more from their car
Just as hope dipped, we spied a spot
Laughed the bike in its slot
“Motorcycles”, we cursed under our breath
Nuts and bolts were nearly left
“Open up!” we complained,
Parking’s a pain; planning early was all in vain
Questioned, a census would agree
Rogue timbered an orange teepee
Sorry, rules were there for the pickin’
Time was a tickin’
Unwilling to be late, too rushed to be chicken.
What choice was at hand?
‘Xiled, banned to no man’s land?
Yugo, we need a miracle, in this
Zonking zoo of vehicles