There’s an anxiety
Within me
When I’m driving my old car
As I change gear, I fear
That it won’t get me far
That through engine procrastination
My destination
Will not be reached
My optimism, breached
And the temperature gauge raised.
I once praised
Her reliability
Until she overheated.
I felt cheated.
I could almost taste the battery acid
I was flaccid
And no longer placid.
I filled her up
Like two girls, one cup
Right to the brim.
It was win-win
Until she died again
And I got a new head gasket.
Fantastic poem Martin! Great rhythm and rhyme structure - though I'm a little concerned at the sexual tension between you and your car! -x-
ReplyDeleteHaha. I'm glad you like it, you're my only follower! Yeah I dunno why two girls, one cup popped into my head at that moment but it made me laugh so I popped it down! Maybe this poem is a metaphor for women trouble, not car trouble :p x
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