Poetry Is Where You Find It Ii
on the parking lot
Frontier
Eclipse
Expedition
Escape
Park Avenue
Highlander
Odyssey
Cruze
Dart
Stratus
Arcadia
Vue
Accent
Optima
DeVille
Rendezvous
Fiesta
Five Hundred
Sable
Soul
X Terra
Forte
Avenger
Rogue
Regal
Alero
Pacifica
Murano
Maxima
Charger
Cobalt
Durango
Tempo
Elantra
Dakota
Edge
Silhouette
Sonata
Prelude
Quest
Forester
Fusion
Camaro
Gran Prix
Terrain
Trailblazer
Tribute
Intrigue
Cavalier
Altima
Ranger
Grand Marquis
Yaris
Suburban
Pilot
Protege
Outlook
Yukon
Malibu
PT Sport
Sundance
Avalon
Pathfinder
Explorer
Oh yes, Scion
Saturn
Volvo
Sebring
VW
GMC
BMW
Infiniti
Friday, September 12, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I have always been intrigued by the names manufacturers give cars: Chevrolet was a famous European racer, Pontiac was a chieftain, Chrysler, Dodge, and Cadillac, frontier governors, Ford and Olds auto makers, DeSoto, an explorer, Plymouth, a pioneer settlement, etc. Then there was a time when we had Cougars, Wildcats, Mustangs, Impalas, Sting Rays, Marlins, Jaguars, and other ferocious beasts -all connoting wild adventure, even violence or speed - being challenged by the 'Beetle.' Human beings have an instinct for poetry, the skillful use of words to touch our hearts, our imaginations, our intellects; in a country and an era when poetry is not as widely beloved as it once was, this instinct expresses itself in multitudinous ways; e.g. what we call our cars, our streets and subdivisions, our apartment complexes, our trade names, even our children. And, oh yes, our food. Our family loves 'heavenly hash, ' 'ambrosia, ' and 'food-for-the-gods.' It goes on and on, infinitely. Infiniti!
very fine, I like it, thanks.