Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2018
My car won’t work,
I’m totally *******!
It’s acting totally rude;
Imbued with a bad attitude.
Like a metal horse
That needs to be shoed
It’s behavior is almost lewd
Waiting around for a rich guy
To come and be the dude
I checked to see if the problem is
Lack of water or life-giving crude,
Oil that is, Texas tea.
It’s silly to expect wealth of me
Always broke, an automotive joke.

All I can do is sit and croak
Like the frog on a log spoke
And since my car chose to croak
I gave my mechanic a poke.
He decided my wallet was too full.
Now I’m in the thrall of a lull
With too much idle time to ****.
I’ll pay the bill, I know I will,
But still, this whole thing is a pill.
It’s not that I hate holding still,
It’s just that I have so few frills
And this is financially uphill.
I will make it work somehow
But for now, it’s back to the plow
That I’ll pull but don’t know how.
A result of the here and the now.

I may just be whining, not sure
But I see no ready-made cure
For now my sense of loss is pure
And there may be no sinecure.
I just have to grin and endure.
I walk and I wait and I cuss
Waiting for the ever-late bus
To ride with other unfortunates.
At least I’m not on a date
And being embarrassed to state
The case of my pauperish state.
Really, none of this is great.
Brent Kincaid
Written by
Brent Kincaid  Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii
(Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems