The odometer has finally reached zero mph;
the love of his life is out in the shed,
Da’s thinking of days & nights spent gallivanting
with a tank full of gas and torque in his lead.
Last Saturday, Ma got James, my older brother
to cut and rake the nut grass in the yard. Ma declared,
“Even though Lucky Jim’s getting paid for unfinished work,
it’ll look like real lawn when it’s finally cleared.”
When Da’s girl came home that summer evening
he took his sweet time rubbing her front and back,
said he’d gotten a hot deal on the price even if he’d
have to buy a CD player since she only played tracks.
Four of us circling felt up her hard shiny body
sporting new rims, fog lights, crushed red velvet seats,
a musical horn we tested till Da cussed us soundly
so we ogled the rearview woman jiggling her cheeks.
Right here are the nicks and sympathetic brake marks
Ma made when she was his rookie navigator,
there the spot on the door where Da rested his arm
while lis’ning ‘n’ whistlin’ to The Duke & Joe Cocker.
It’s been one whole week since the doctor’s last visit,
a while now since Da’s bad leg gave him the slip
but he’s telling everyone before they even think of asking
his girl’s not for sale or for borrowed road trips.
As he waits for his honey to take him out driving,
he checks and rechecks there’s power left under the hood,
in the meantime Lucky Jim will get to make sure
her steering, suspension and battery stays good.
Ma used to say if Da could he would take her to bed,
she’s the one he’s cared for most of his life
for if Da had to choose between the two of his women
the car’d win hands down; she’d have to settle for wife.