Old Relevant Stuff
Flip up an old garage door:
Senses awaken
With the smell of unspent gas
And the sight of oil stains
Upon the floor.
Memories return;
Yea, the paint is a bit thin, (like me) worn and weary,
But, under that old hood
Is still plenty of strength and fury.
Grab an ancient thumb-latch handle on the door
Turn a key in the dash
Bring to life this sleeping dinasour;
Time for a fast blast into the past,
Up through the gears
And back through the years
Life's thrill comes by way of this beast,
On gas, tires and oil it will heartily feast.
-To the driver side
It's like a perfect old friend
Come to visit
Now and then,
Fond old times to recall
When both stood so young
Unfettered and tall.
-To the mechanic side
It was always perfect joy
Spending many a night wrenching
On this overgrown toy.
And for both the only thought it all brought
Was the pure pleasure behind the wheel
To be sought:
The perfect-simple plan
Of machine and man.
A mechanical mellifluous milieu,
Before everything went to hell after 1972.
It was back when Pontiac was alive
And made their own engine,
And the letters G.T.O.
Were truly a legend........
But time and age
All have their wicked ways,
So even the fabled muscle-car
Could not out run its fate
At the hands of pejorative politicians
And ruthless insurance rates;
Those nights of way back when
Shall never return again,
Sadly missed,
But fondly reminisced
Each time, that wild old engine whines.
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poem by Smoky Hoss
Added by Poetry Lover
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