Love Letters, Part 2 [8-20-09]

She's the only one for me, and she's a pain in the ass.
Grumpy when she wakes up--something we share--
has expensive taste in food, simply has to go out to eat at least once a week;
holds old-fashioned ideas, complete with old-fashioned problems.
When she's endearing, she's big-framed;
the rest of the time she's a bloody tank.
She's got plenty of screws loose, she gets around town,
and most certainly has more than one short-circuit to her name;
She's got a rough past--but don't we all have secrets?
And I promise you half of what you're ogling is fake.

Not to mention when she gets upset.
When we get into a fight--well, it can get ugly.
We've both said things we didn't really mean,
but she'll hold a grudge and won't so much as turn over until we've made up.
Let me tell you, the counseling fees alone--!
(but to tell the truth, nothing turns her on more
and she purrs like a kitten for weeks.)

Oh, she's beautiful, alright.
You wouldn't believe the attention she gets;
compliments from complete strangers,
smiling faces everywhere she goes
(except from bicyclists, who only scowl.)
Her voice singing above the radio is what makes those late-night drives worthwhile.
Even parking lot freeways aren't so bad when she mutters sweet nothings in my ear.

Sometimes I've got to wonder if I've tied myself down.
After all, going out with too many friends rubs her the wrong way
and she's easily forty years my senior.
So many younger, cheaper wild rides are out there for the taking!
But she's my first car
(and my one and only)
and I love her to bits
(even though she's low on power steering fluid
and needs an oil change
and keeps making that wierd noise.)

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Pnelma's Pen