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