It’s my fourth (or fifth) so far
The reason I go through so many
Is it’s such a great little car
Sleek and stylish
Lean and mean
This little rice rocket is a
Real thrill machine
It corners like a mountain goat
Skates like Sonya Henje
Does Tokyo drifts and handbrake turns
Like not too many
Other, more costly cars
And it does it incognito
Because, other than a graceful fin
It’s just another mosquito
The GT model, with the 2.3
Is a whole different car
When it comes to quick
This one sets the bar
And this is where I come to grief
I love to drive these little hustlers
And I love to ask a little more of them
Than they can fairly muster
One rolled on black ice
A fallen tree squashed another
I rear-ended a dump truck with one
I don’t know why I bother.
This time it was my fault
I was coming out of the gas bar
I checked traffic both ways
But I didn’t see the car
Racing into my blind spot
An Audi wagon going fifty
Honk, bang, crunch, tinkle
As a sound effect, it’s pretty nifty
The lady cop cleaned things up
Hustled the tow guys and commuters
We took pictures with our iPhones
To download to our computers
I was at the collision reporting centre
For the next five hours until dark
Lined up to talk to patient people
Asked again and again to make my mark
Then a long drive in the tow truck
My beloved dangling behind
At the end of the trip, a nasty pound
And a surprise rental for me to find
A cherry red 2012 Ford Escape
A truck, tall, heavy and butch
This might be more fun than a Mazda
Though probably not by much
It’s big. It’s red.
It’s a four by four
It drives like a bull
In a china store
It has heated seats
A thermometer and wifi
It’s just full of treats
My fourth (or fifth) so far
But I’m through with that stage of my life
No more sporty little cars