She is the connection to my whims
She is made of metal and brass, and is always good for a kick in the ass
She screams when I push her, and purrs when I don’t need to pass.
She is black, and bronze, and so much cooler than the fonz
She drinks, she pours, she rests, she stinks
She breaths and chokes, and occasionally smokes
She is an extension of my soul, my life and goals
She can propel me to new places, and win at the races
She is here from her time away at the spa, and all I can say is ahhh.
I dedicate this poem to Dave VanNess who rebuilt my baby.
AND SPEAKING OF CARBS! I gained 5 lbs this week. No excuse. Ugh,