Grease Poet

Carl the mechanic
was the first poet I ever met—
livin' at home takin' a few classes at the local CC I think us younger guys
in the neighborhood kinda looked up to him because he was sort of a regular
guy but when he came out cryin' one day and showed us his first publication he
sniffed that he'd tried to show his old man what he'd done and all the old
drunk could do was laugh and drip snot all over the pages Carl said this was
typical of how people treated poets which was why I knew I'd never be one
so I asked Carl to pop the hood of the Charger and show me the spark plugs or
something.

First published in X-Ray

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