’63 powder-blue Dodge Dart
slant-six engine, push-button transmission
that my father gave me in 1970.
Volvo 122s Wagon I bought with a hundred dollars cash
and twenty-five dollars in food stamps.
Green-gold Ford Maverick I sold to hitchhike around Europe.
Tiny red Subaru hatchback that got me home
after a music gig one night
on an unplowed highway
in a New England blizzard.
Jeep Wagoneer that leaked oil and power-steering fluid
on my hands and shirt.
’58 Chevy Bel Air I slept in one winter night,
after its headlights shorted out.
Fourth-hand International mail truck
the worn cylinders and bad kingpins
foiled my dream of living on the road.
Beige Toyota Corolla with a previous owner’s bag of weed
hidden behind the headlight.
’59 Rambler
nearly killed me
when the scissors jack tipped over.