Thursday, February 16, 2012

Under the Hood

These days, you know,
I'm hardly more than
a grinding clockworks
a shoddy transmission
ready to seize.
I churn on
I scree like a terrible locomotive
halting on the tracks
A dry tank
A friction machine and
a stripped out thread.

Those old contraptions -
ones referred to in a feminine
personal "she" -
require more intuition
to operate
More subtle artistry -
It's all in the wrist.

She must be spoken to lovingly
shifted and maneuvered
with a gentle touch
Oil and chamois at the ready
and easy, easy with the clutch.
And she will drive you where
you need to go.
Her engine will sing and purr
with the deep, low, hum that comes
from really knowing her.

(C) Tasha Chinnock 2012