Mike Mottler

Rookie (August 25,1939 / Peoria, IL)

Car Talk To Myself

Poem by Mike Mottler

by Mike H. Mottler

It’s not just coincidental
I’ve yearned for a Continental
For many decades until now.
From a vision transcendental
Came feelings not accidental
That timing was right with the Dow.

So I cashed-in long-held blue chips;
Sold GM, Dupont, and Vise-grips
Then searched for the car of my dreams.
Ads in HEMMINGS caused head flippings
And Web ads showed info clippings.
One in Chi-town seemed within means.

Owned by a silver-tongued devil,
My mechanic, on the level,
Declared it quite sound – a keeper.
His review during inspection
Showed savvy and introspection
That drew me to the deal deeper

A test drive allayed suspicion
It might have some ill condition.
Wow, it was too good to be true!
The motor roared – richly throaty;
And the chrome seemed real show-boaty
With paint in a shade of light blue.

The deal done, my trip home begun
Driving a great classic for fun.
I-55 passed in a flash.
The deal set a record to last;
The transaction recently passed
Was my quickest transfer of cash.

My car remains a head-turner
And a great guzzling gas-burner.
I hope Britney takes note some day.
Then learns her having a boy toy
Is kid stuff compared to the joy
Of owning a car that’s risqué.

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Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

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Read poems about / on: car, fun, silver, joy, hope, home, light, dream

Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 21, 2004