New and Used
by Andrea Rubin

the stick it’s so sexy it’s not a dick the tension point where it starts to go by itself the repetitive journey from arousal to second to third like bases and the chemistry between driver and car or is it more like master and hound the car responsive and obedient the hand on the reins no the car’s not a machine it’s a steed or from certain angles it’s a girl wearing barrettes it lunges forward like a dog in a dog park foaming at the temp gauge the car’s been through a lot, been used like a dog from the pound it has issues it will serve you well yet i would have liked to know the car when it was young, all dressed up for the buyer on the dealer’s lot – the rust not yet formed like scabs or scars on the hood. i shudder to think of the accident that dented the hood. did someone die? is my car scared now like i am every time i approach the freeway? and the car was found abandoned, the ceiling peeled off – shall i buy a pretty duct tape with flowers from the hardware store and bandage your wounds? who did this to you?