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    You are at:Home»Poetry In Motion»A Poem To Blame
    Poetry In Motion

    A Poem To Blame

    By Trevor HardwickOctober 1, 2025Updated:October 1, 20251 Comment2 Mins Read
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    This one is another parody I’ve had rolling around in my head for a little while. Parodies are a little more challenging to write as a poem because they rely on the reader knowing the actual song being parodied. This one, however, I know with absolute certainty, that you are familiar with the original song. Anytime I have a little fun with rewriting song lyrics, I advise the reader to listen to the original version first, and then read the version I just wrote, and hopefully have a little fun with it. So… without further ado… please go listen to Jimmy Buffet singing his iconic song “Margaritaville”. Get that song stuck in your head, like it always tends to do, and then come back and read my poem/parody here. It’s silly and it doesn’t necessarily make a ton of sense, but it’s fun. And later today, when you have Margaritaville repeating in your head, just remember this – some people claim that there’s a poem to blame, but I know… it’s my own damn fault! I call this one Buff-It, Jimmy! Enjoy!!

    BUFF-IT, JIMMY!
    By Trevor Hardwick

    Feelin’ my truck shake…
    Hittin’ the Jake Brake…
    Pretty dang sure,
    I’m beginnin’ to toil.

    Hummin’ on eighteen…
    Oh, how the tires sing…
    Smell that stench,
    I’ve been burnin’ some oil.

    Wastin’ a day again in my ol’ Peterbilt.
    Waitin’ for that, freight broker’s call.
    Some people claim that there’s a sickness to blame,
    But I know… it’s nobody’s fault.

    Don’t know the reason…
    Freight’s in slow season…
    Nothin’ to pull,
    But a backhaul or two.

    But it’s a real doosey…
    And it’s makin’ me moody…
    I polish and shine,
    When there’s nothin’ to do.

    Wastin’ a day again in my ol’ Peterbilt.
    Waitin’ for that, freight broker’s call.
    Some people claim that it’s a young man’s game,
    But I know… well, it could be my fault.

    I don’t wear no flip-flops…
    Strollin’ my flat-top…
    I’d buff my wheels,
    ‘Fore I cruise on back home.

    But then I remember…
    I need legal tender…
    That frozen load option,
    Is already gone.

    Wastin’ a day again in my ol’ Peterbilt.
    Waitin’ for that, freight broker’s call.
    Some people claim that it’s a cryin’ shame,
    But I think… it’s my own damn fault.

    Yes and…
    Some people claim it’s in their D-N-A…
    Then I know… it’s my old man’s fault!

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    Trevor Hardwick

    Trevor Hardwick is a 3rd generation truck driver who has been in love with all things truck-related since he was “delivered” (pun intended). When he was a kid, Trevor began using artwork and poetry as a means of staying connected to trucking, and still loves doing it today. Trevor lives in Stanwood, Washington with his wife Alicia, and has been a regular contributor to 10-4 Magazine since January of 2008. Alicia puts up with Trevor’s love affair with trucks and also shares his outspoken devotion to their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

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    1 Comment

    1. Peter Duekilde on October 20, 2025 6:30 am

      Mr Hardwick,as always, I am humbled by your Talents! As a long time reader of the Legendary 10/4 Magazine as well as a an established Poet myself, I must say you never seize to amaze!
      And Yes, I am a fellow Trucker (Shore-to-Shore since ’94)
      Always a Company Driver, never owned my own truck, I must say your “Pile of Style” is an absolute Masterpiece – flawlessly captivating the Spirit of “The Good Ol’ Days”..
      Keep those wonderful Poems coming, my friend, you are truly a Master of the Craft!
      God bless you and yours!

      Reply
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