Bedonka Trucks

A poem to be read to the "I Like Big Butts" tune

In Raleigh, in old narrow downtown streets, there's this guy I see far too often on the roads. He's driving one of those massive extended wide-bed pickup trucks. It's bright red, with big mag wheels and a tricked-out roaring engine with double glass-pack mufflers. The rear window is tinted with the American flag, has a stacked gun rack, and a blindingly shiny chrome storage box stretching across the truck bed under the rear window. I see this truck any time I'm running later than usual during the week. 

It wasn't this one, but I've seen similar trucks when we lived in MO with deer carcasses strapped to the hood. 

Setting the scene: I'm filling up at my car. This particular guy pulls up across from me, climbs down from his high-rise, wide-bed truck. He's wearing skin-tight leather-patched jeans with a shiny chrome-plated chain trailing from his back pocket to his belt with the massive highly polished buckle. With that, he wore a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves torn-off in what I presume he thought was "artful." On his head is what looked like a snake-skin cowboy hat with chrome-shiny studs on the brim band. The clack-thonk of his boots drew my attention to the tooled leather, bedazzle studded boots no-cowboy-in-his-right-mind would be caught dead in. Even Travolta's "Urban Cowboy" pales compared to this monstrosity.

This is the truck. This is the guy. This is the guy whose truck is so wide it overflows the ample highway lane. Semis are crowded by this truck. That is what a "bedonka-truck" is. 

I hate big trucks and I will not lie

Their chassis rise way too high

On the daggone street those wide-bed trucks are much too wide

Bedonka-truck pushed me aside

Those high set, oversized big wheels

Bearin’ down' -- ya know how it feels

Ya wondrin’ at the ill it bodes

Urban tanks take up th’whole dang road

Oh man, engine roarin’ in my head

‘Nough to raise the dead

Law don’t keep ‘em off the street

Gun racks in the rear window makes me meek

Ooh! Just makes me mad!

And, I hate flannel shirts of plaid

Carcass ‘stride the hood

Poor body gone stiff like dead wood

Frozen dead-eyed stare

Forever in despair

Don’t gotta like

Bedonka-truck’s hoggin’ the turnpike

Tired-a wide bed jumped up

Urban rednecker’s pickup

Ain’t no self-respectin’ farmer’d be caught

Toolin’ ‘round in that blot

Rollin’ round town in trash flash

Nothin’ but bedonka-truck show cash

Roamin’ ‘round town like a wannabe tough guy

Bluffin’ to get by

‘Cause compensatin’ all th’urban cowboy’s got!

‘Compensatin’ for itty bitty somethin’ dude lacks.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

I laughed at the end at the sarcasm and wit. This is different from all your writes for you write it as if thinking out loud to yoursef, your discussion weighs the pros and cons of these monstrous trucks and the owners who pride themselves as if to prove a point to society. I like the title and the intricate descriptions of the man. truck and settings.

[MomzillaNC]

Thanks so much, Sami!

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...

[Samuel Dickens]

Right down to the last line, you've nailed it. When I began reading, I immediately thought, "Compensating-this guy's bound to have a minuscule member." Like I said--you nailed it. Crazy me, I've got this notion that we should all be good neighbors and not hog up any more of the earth's resources than is necessary. (I drive a Corolla)

[MomzillaNC]

Thanks. I'm in agreement with you on all being good neighbors and not hogging up more of earth's resources than necessary.