Poppa Zetire Poem by Tony Avila Sampson

Poppa Zetire will search late at night,
To find your four tires, he'll be very quite;

Moving about while lookin' very slow,
For the air in your tires, he plans to let go;

It's for the bad things that you may have done,
Your tires, he plays with, be now his fun;

His strike at each tire may just send,
Gushing therefrom, a mighty big wind;

With quickness, your tires will get a big slice,
Inconvienence is for you, cause you're not very nice;

To poke each tire with a soft gentle swing,
You'll need to be close to hear the air leaking;

Look good at those tires that you once had,
Now while your car sits, Poppa is sure glad;

You'll quickly fix them, again and again,
While Poppa Zetire keeps wearing a grin;