You told me I had
No control over a vehicle
I’ve spent the past two years
(and three thousand euro)
Learning how to maneuver.

I have perfected
The nudges and curves
Of a gear box.

I have learnt
How to run my fingers over
That dry leathery cover
Like a tailor’s trained finger
Over brand new silk.

May you wake up one day
To a flat tire
That refuses to be removed and changed.

May your version of Hell
Be a long high way –
Free of bumps and decorated with scenery –
That is constantly
And annoyingly
Full of traffic
And punctuated
By toll booth
After toll booth
After bloody toll booth.

May your head lights go out
As you drive by a police officer
Who will fine you
For not taking better care
Of a vehicle you should have given more respect.