I popped a tire
on a curb today;
it’s the only way
I’ve ever had a flat.
I pulled into a gas station
in my hometown, got distracted
by the two hundred motorcyclists
hanging out there with their
motorcycles, and hit a curb
with the front right tire,
prompting it to immediately
deflate. What the hell.
With my sister’s help, I learned
to change a tire—we took off
the flat and put on the spare.
Upon arriving at the nearest
Just Tires location (the only
car place nearby open on a Sunday),
I discovered that I had
had the foresight the last time
I popped a tire to buy insurance
on the new set of tires
that replaced the flat then,
so this time it cost exponentially
less than what I was expecting.
I wondered afterward why I hadn’t
learned to change a tire before
this point. What the hell.
Prompt: Make something. Anything! Write a poem about your spontaneous making experience. NaPoWriMo