CAR POEM

After work
covered in grease
swigging beer
wiping sweat
off my brow
with my oily
stained shirt

Standing over
massive guts
of my car
racing sunlight
to get the beast running
to haul me to work
one more day

I reach my hands
down into the belly
of cables and steel
It feels
strange
in my hands

With each beer
it gets more fun
I’m like a
big kid with
a giant model

I turn the key
and it comes
roaring alive

These factory hands
have brought the dead
to life

Great

Now I have
no choice
but to go to work