A Bus
  by someone-other-than-Joyce-Kilmer

I thought that I would never see
A bigger fool than I could be,
Someone whose tastes are sim'lar strange
In transportation speed and range.

Who, like me, instead of speed,
Choose cargo volume as a need;
More room to sleep, perchance to dream,
With all within, beside a stream.

And like the Tortoise, not the Hare,
We won't be hurried getting there;
But when arrived we are, we think,
We've kit, caboodle, and kitchen sink.

Who, like me, instead of miles,
Would rather count the grins and smiles
That come from driving day to day
Four wheels beneath a cargo-bay.

And sit up high above the street,
To wave at every bus we meet,
As down the highways and the lanes,
We truck along with sweet refrains.

I thought that I would never see
A bigger fool than I could be,
But lots of folks make quite a fuss,
That only Volkswagen makes a Bus.

:)