East Maine Noms
In the downtown of Enid–
that’s my old home town–
stands a hungry railroad bridge of great renown.
He’s 11’4″ from his teeth to the ground.
If you’re a trucker you best avoid East Maine Street,
because that old bridge is after a treat.
He’ll open you up like a can of sardines,
because for the noms, he’s quite keen.
He’s chewed on a cookie truck–
followed by a soda truck to wash it all down.
It doesn’t matter if your cargo’s edible.
He’s got a taste for yummy scrap metal.
His teeth are ready to chomp on down.
Most bridges say, “Don’t feed the troll,”
but this bridge has got its own soul,
and he’s ready to make you roll!
So if you find yourself on East Maine,
staring into its mighty white teeth,
you’d best turn your rig around,
or all the local folks are going to laugh you out of town,
along with your autograph upon a ticket
that says, “Pay attention, clown!”
Let’s all raise a toast,
to the shark bridge our town created,
as he opens a semi of beer with that smile serrated.