David Harris (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)
A Blob On Four Wheels (Fun Poem 71)
Whatever happened to
the car designers out there?
Does there mind go blank
when they are designing cars.
It must do
because from what I’ve seen on the road.
Round blobs on wheels with no character at all.
There is nothing to distinguish
one car from another.
Years ago, you could pick a model,
which would have a character
of its own for years.
Now they churn them out
with increasing numbers,
car with no distinctive character.
Moreover, when you look at them
what do you see
nothing but a blob on four wheels.
A real sad state of affairs.
They may have super duper engines
and can travel fast,
but the bodywork leaves a lot to be desired.
Rounded bits here and there.
It is like someone driving
a bubble blown in chewing gum.
No character, not at all.
Just a blob on four wheels.
So what have to the designers,
did they loose their creativity?
29 March 2008
Comments about this poem (A Blob On Four Wheels (Fun Poem 71) by David Harris )
People who read David Harris also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings