The cabbie glances at you in the mirror as you eat the pie in his backseat. A piece of crust falls out of your mouth onto the seat. You don't bother cleaning it up.

"I clean this cab this morning!" says the cabbie with a thick accent. His eyes accost you in the mirror.

"Yeah man," you say. "HeY I want to run my slam poem by you. Okay?"

"No eating in my cab."

In a loud voice you recite:


The world needs more bike lanes!
This will bring peace and security to 3rd world nations.
It will end corporate greed.
War.
Death.
God will be happy. So will Jesus and Satan.
I will bike more. I will buy a new bike so the economy will
improve as well.
Global warming would get better. Meaning, it would get cooler I guess.
Not sure as I am not a scientist.
I am a humble biker with a simple dream.
More bike lanes for a better world!


You look at the cabbie expectantly. The car comes to a skidding stop. "Get out now!" he shouts.

"It's a poem," you reason.

"Out!"

RATE THIS BRANCH!