Part 2
I arrive at the car under the tree
now green with pollen washed
down by the pitter-patter
over, then starting-over rain
and it just sat there in its
impertinence getting green
all night long, as if it was my fault.

I opened the hood not sure
what I would do, but I thought
it looked good to open the hood
cause doing nothing seemed
obviously more stupid,
than looking under the hood.

I touched the battery cable,
because why wouldn’t I?
The crackle of spark as
the negative cable moved
suggested the last idiot
who worked on the car
didn’t tighten the cable.

I found the right socket
for I was the idiot and
knew which socket fit
and it was the only one
not of perfectly clean chrome
and tightened the cable.

Walla.. if that’s a word?
The car started up, once
again Repaired, and
I, the idiot, was grateful
to drive it home, with
the realization I should
stick to poetry versus auto repair
and listen to the rain,
pitter-patter.