Though in objective terms, it's
doubtless the worst
No car has character quite like your
first,
Your rusting iron horses, their
carriage-breath turned sour,
Your loose-fitting suits of armor with
ninety-five horsepower.
I used to ride to school in a Cadillac,
big as a boat
(Or a 70's-sized ego.
The driver's in the army now, the Milos
Glorioso),
Or an old pint-sized truck with a
falling-off bed
(That driver lost baggage, smoked it
out of his head).
A friend of mine had a Jeep that didn't
need its keys.
You rarely meet one generous or
self-starting as he.
My first car's paint was peeling,
primer and all.
It didn't have a stick-shift, but it
always liked to stall.
I totaled that sucker on a big SUV.
Nah, I guess my first car wasn't
anything like me.
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