The h2g2 Poem
Created | Updated Nov 11, 2005
First Car
We might just have invented a new sport: team poetry. A bunch of us just came up with this in the pub. Okay, so it's complete doggerel and you can see some fairly abrupt style-joins. But it was fun.
Deduction: car is not in motion.
Examine engine with devotion.
Duck oil offered. Spark plugs burnished.
Next-door-neighbour's jump-leads furnished.
Late for work, your mate disparages
Your miserly dislike of garages.
Even when you get it running
The damn thing needs five minutes' gunning.
The neighbours comment on the odour
Including those who drive a Skoda.
It's started now. You're past the worst
If you can get it out of first.
Take your time for the first few feet
'Cos we'll need the brakes by the end of the street.
Once up to speed, you'll be OK
(It's pulling to the left today)
In future would you kindly warn us
Of screeching noises when it corners?
A mile to the shops should be all right.
For the next six hours it'll still be light.
(Approaching nightfall makes things fraughter
When your nearside headlamp's full of water)
You've taken longer than you told her
Looking for the tail-pipe on the hard shoulder.
Your girlfriend didn't find it funny.
She’s called a cab, and taken your money.
(The taxi found the house because it's
Marked with kerbside oil deposits)
Alone for the evening on your sofa smelly,
Watching Jeremy Clarkson on the telly,
You know that the car has got to go.
The woman you want is telling you so.
She'll never offer treats vaginal
When stretched out on denatured vinyl.
You know that you can't afford to fix it.
So you leave the keys in and hope someone nicks it.
