I don’t have no luck with cars

I don’t have no luck with cars
mate – they’re fine as they are
without me stamping on accelerators
swinging off & on indicators
like some gassed-up piston-eyed petrol head
whose brain & brakes got so well bled
he lost all mechanical sympathy
and went down in automotive infamy


I don’t have no credit with motors
blacklisted with all the dealers & brokers
on the RAC’s most-wanted list
AA saying ‘Cease & Desist’
all the secondhand dealers blocked
my custom karma summarily stopped
exiled from a life of spanners and mechanics
for crimes against manuals & automatics

allow it

I don’t have no grip in the world of wheels
tank caps flap and tyres squeal
when cars see me coming
their engines start gunning
till they pink and seize
piss window wash & anti-freeze
shudder, recover from the stall
run themselves straight through the nearest wall

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