A poem about washing my car and then what happens next.

9:30 a.m.

Connor and I hose my car

down with water.

I scrub

he rinses,

the hood,

back of car, and

both sides.

Hurrying before it got any hotter,

I dry it with worn, old towels

that my dad keeps in the garage for

this sole purpose.

Windex

paper towels

clean the windows,

speedometer,

clutch,

and other

interior places.

Two hours later

going out to the car,

I see a big blob

of white on the

passenger side.

Bird shit!

Oh man!

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Comments (1)
  • loafer on May 2, 2009

    oh, what a surprise ending!

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