National Poetry Month Day 8: The Worst Poem I've Ever Written (Without Trying)

Driving the entire half alone
With the exact feeling you're
Farting someone else's vile gas
No matter what you do
Pick up a hitchhiker
To share the blame
They won't stop changing the radio
Talking about the importance of the centering of the burger on the bun
You tell them you're allergic to gluten
You're about to just tell them you're deaf
When you drop him off
He leaves you his dog Brad
Brad likes your farts
And wants you to meet his
Which smell very familiar