Ode to Mud Flaps

My heart aches, and my ire grows
As though a hornet from a disturbed hive,
Or as a violent wind blows
Like a drunkard attempting the jive
When I see an SUV or truck
In Minnesota winter time
Sloshing through and splattering wet
Snow, rain, dirt and muck
Upon my windshield filled with grime
Wipers on until home I get.

O for a day when you grace each truck
And my wipers idly rest on the glass
Since flaps drop to the ground the muck
No mud splashes as Hummers pass.
Behind the glass sheet I see clearly
Without my friendly wipers’ aid.
Dealers, auto-makers, hear my pleas!
Mud flaps, I love you dearly.
For merely $20 more I paid,
Install them at the factories!