I only write poems that rhyme, so literary critics can tune out at this point.

As I got older, and the commuting got longer — two hours each way to Boeing — I started using “beaters”, old cars with little life left in them, but cheap.  I have had two used Chevy Metro’s in series, both red.  They were peppy little cars, easy to park, but they were no match for a Corvette.  The following story is actually quite true, although I never followed up and actually talked to the Corvette owner.  The whole idea came to me right there in the parking lot as it happened. Hope you enjoy the poem.

My Whole Life Flashed Before My Eyes

 I drive a Geo Metro

It’s a beauty, and it’s red

It uses very little gas

It’s my second, first one’s dead

 You might ask how I got it

I’ll tell you, but sit down

It all started many years ago

Now try hard not to frown

 I got myself a big degree

In engineering and so it went

I spent time in the Air Force

As an officer and a gent

 While I worked for Uncle Sam

I bought my first used car

And in those days a tank of gas

Didn’t get me very far

 It was a 1960 dual quad Vette

All white with red inside

To that I added a pretty wife

And then a father’s pride

 All too soon the Vette was gone

A Buick in its place

But life was lookin’ up, my friend

My career picked up its pace

 I sent men to the moon

And  a lota stuff like that

I got my masters at RPI

And then more kids I gat

 My car by now was a Maverick

It got 21 on the road

The years went by and now I drive

This cramped and cheap red toad

 So there I was this mornin’

Looking for a place to park

When I spied a spot that looked real great

And I went for it like a shark

 But as I closed upon my prey

A sleek red bullet passed

A modern version of my old Vette

And I was all aghast

 I didn’t mind the spot he got

He got it fair and square

What I got was a fiendish thought

Could  I do it, would I dare?

 Well, I decided that I’d do it

And I headed off his way

I said, “I don’t mean to worry you son,

But you’ll be drivin’ that someday!”

 Art Davenport, June 2002