FLAT TIRE

FLAT TIRE

A Poem by rutherford

 

When your daughter gets a flat

at 10:30 on a Monday night

you grab a flashlight and go out

to press your face into gravel

and smell that cold pavement smell.

You thought you'd teach her to change

a tire but never did

instead you send her home

with her mother in the car

without the flat.

You fumble in the dark

with an untested jack

cranking your Japanese SUV

into the air by inches

pull the flat off the lugs

and struggle

to align the good one

twisting the nuts as tight as possible

"Always use your hands before you use a tool,"

your eighth grade Shop teacher once said.

Two days later

you're still cleaning road grit

from the grooves of your fingers

which remind you

of the treads of tires.


© 2016 rutherford



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Added on May 20, 2016
Last Updated on June 7, 2016

Author

rutherford
rutherford

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Misguided visionary playing with words. Strongly encourage comments that will improve my pieces. If you friend me, I ask that you have first looked at my writing and willing to offer some helpful re.. more..

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