Totaled

The driveway has a shadow now,

a stain of oil and grit.

I’d fix the damn thing if I knew how,

or had the heart for it.

The mechanic said the gasket’s gone,

the metal’s warped and thin.

I’m sitting here at early dawn,

letting the cold air in.

There’s a spark plug on the table-top,

pulled like a jagged tooth.

The ticking had to finally stop.

That’s the ugly, oily truth.