If my body was a car
I think that I would be trading it in,
It has taken me both near and far
On water, pop and gin.
I have bumps and dents and scratches
And the paint job I don't like or coddle,
Now none of the original upholstery matches
It's time I believe for a new model.
The headlights are now out of focus
And it's very hard to see things up close,
I wish I could fix them with a hocus pocus
But, instead with Visine I will take another dose.
My traction isn't as graceful as it once was
I now slip and slide and skip and bump,
I don't know why, but it just does
And it's continually heading for the dump.
My whitewalls are now all stained
And they all are slowly releasing air,
They are now varicose veins
And now everyone always will point and stare.
It now takes me forever to reach my maximum speed
My fuel rate burns inefficiently,
No longer can I keep up or maintain the lead
As I sputter and overeat quiet proficiently.
And whenever I happen to sneeze
My radiator then begins to leak,
And also whenever I cough in the breeze
My exhaust then backfires for a week.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem