Doughnut poem

I got a free doughnut on my ride today
It tasted great and I didn’t have to pay
I said to the lady at the country store,
“How much is them doughnuts? I’d like three or four.”
She said, “Well, mister cyclist guy, they’re 60 cents each.”
“If you’d like, I’ve got one that tastes like peach.”
“But it costs 75 cents, I hope that’s all right.”
I said, “Yeah, I can manage, peach would be tight.”
I went outside to my bike and bike bag
I searched and searched but the only thing in it was a dirty old rag
I went back inside and said, “I aint got no cash.”
“But that’s OK because doughnuts give me a rash.” (not true)
She said, “Oh I insist, take one anyway.”
I said, “No, no, no I’m not a stray.”
“I wouldn’t feel good, I wouldn’t feel right…
…to take a doughnut without paying for one bight.”
“I already used your bathroom and filled my bottles.”
“I’ve got plenty of food and am fueled full throttle.”
But she kept insisting, so I said, “Well thanks.”
I ate it outside by the propane tanks
It tasted good, flavor sweetened by kind favor
I was soon re-thinking our species’ savior
Maybe there’s a chance that people are good
If that’s so, let me not get hit by a truck full of wood
But after riding a minute, my feeling of bliss turned to bitch
For logging trucks galore drove me into the ditch
I cursed, screamed and spat, middle finger thrusting in the air
But it was all to my great despair
It made no difference, they were too big
How could they notice? To them I was an insignificant twig
Uncaring and ignorant, the speeding trucks were shitty
They were all too busy transporting forest to city
Because money makes doughnuts, not a kind woman’s pity

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