Sharing poetry and feminist thought

Archive for February, 2014

Video

My Dearest Vauxy

(dedicated to our lonely 1957 Vauxhall Victor)

My dear Vauxy, I know how you feel

I remember the excitement in his eyes when he brought you home,
Those many, many years ago

The determination at the thought of picking up the pieces,
And making you whole again – just like a man – such a problem solver.

The hours toiling away carefully tinkering beneath your hood,
Gently caressing all your curves, welding new steel to replace the rusted and neglected frame of your body.

My dear Vauxy, I know how you feel

The man hours, the emotional and physical investment,
Night after night, for months on end.

You became his obsession,
And I could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

But like all passionate love affairs, the exploration, the investment and excitement of the newness,
All good things come to an end.

He became distracted with a new venture, a new love,
Here we are a fine English import and a Middle Eastern refugee,

The epitome of neglected first loves that novels are written about,
Two peas in a very lonely dusty pod.

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