‘Audi 100 TDI (C3)’, circa 1990

             burgundy

             sharp angles, plush brown seats.
                                                                                    stroke them like a creature

                                                                                    the pet you’ve always wanted —

                                                                                    even dead mice

                                                                                    get cradled in your hands.
             breaks down, again.                              
                                                                                    walk to school in black-ice Woolston,
                                                                                    crunch frost-grass underfoot,

                                                                                    puff out visible breath.
             gets fixed eventually;

             parts from Germany,

             so far away.
                                                                                    watch your father’s legs

                                                                                    sticking out between wheels

                                                                                    in his grease-stained blue overalls

                                                                                    embroidered with someone else’s name. 

             is totalled in a nose-to-tail,

             crumpled either end.                             
                                                                                    confuse the eventual dog by crying
                                                                                    & have whiplash.

 


‘Audi A4 (B5)’ circa 1990s

             midnight black

             rounder, softer somehow

             leather seats.

                                                                                    adhere to them under the ozone hole.
                                                                                    peel yourself off & into Walham Pool,

                                                                                    leave behind skin cells, chlorine,

                                                                                    & the tang of summer joy.

             the one he lets you decorate.     
                                                                                    emblazon it with glitter stickers
                                                                                    & on school runs feel magical

                                                                                    in a shimmering chariot
                                                                                    until the man at the WOF place

                                                                                    fails it.

 

 

‘Armstrong Siddeley Sapphire 234’, circa 1960

             snot-green        

             nicknamed ‘Waddly Archer’

             rattles, rumbles & never quite goes.

                                                                                    sit stationary surrounded by dolls,

                                                                                    pretend to have control.

             epitomises your mother’s

             fear of driving.

                                                                                    be wide eyes

                                                                                    in a seatbelt-free backseat,

                                                                                    while she bunny-hops around the block

                                                                                    to the tempo of his anger.
             is sold one day

             in debt desperation.   
                                                                                    play with the new Bratz
                                                                                    he buys you from the profit.

 

 

‘Audi 5000’, circa 1980

             crimson

             sits on cinderblocks
             killing the grass into its shadow.

                                                                                    watch him take tools from the locked garage

                                                                                    & tinker until it is dark AKA

                                                                                    time for the drinking to begin.
             gets sold in panic, having never driven

             a single kilometre at his hands.                                   
                                                                                    teach his tense form

                                                                                    how to list things

                                                                                    on lurid Trade Me.

 

 

‘Mitsubishi Colt III (C50)’, circa 1990

             steely blue

             object of his scorn,

             generously given;

             reluctantly driven.
                                                                                    travel to another island in it &

                                                                                    panic at the gruff, sudden exhalation

                                                                                    of all its oil onto the Bombay Hills,
                                                                                    the greasy slick there for years

                                                                                    of a machine spluttering to its end.

 

 

‘Peugeot 407’, circa 2000

             silver

             diesel

             purchased with no consultation

             & an entire inheritance.

                                                                                    witness it break, again, again,
                                                                                    wait for parts from France, so far away,

                                                                                    while ‘road user charges’

                                                                                    collect like dust on his city of beer cans.

 

 

despite the Audi/Audi/Armstrong/Audi/Mitsubishi/Peugeot

             you do not learn to drive.

             they are his; you are his
             passenger only.

                                                                                    get taught later, as an adult,

                                                                                    by a rag-tag band of heroes

                                                                                    who lead without anger.

                                                                                    he is not in the picture.

 

 

‘Honda Jazz’, circa 2000

             silver,

             simple

             your very own.                                                 

                                                                                    know he could never stomach

                                                                                    the speed of your freedom.

 

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