Mudlark No. 48 (2012)

Oil Change

Is it every 3, 000 miles or thrice that
with something synthetic, something not drawn from 
sea-bottom or rocky bowels? But let’s go
au naturel, the sticker on the window 
transparent, easily seen through, the miles to go
not a measure of the Big Journey, nearest
Starbuck’s (using the gift debit card). Not just
fear, low oil pressure, this motor of yours is 
about to give out, what did you think? Screw all
that. This baby’s good to go. Smooth as fluid
through a stent. Agile as a new knee. Crackling
like a statin in the clogged avenue that
opens at the sea, from which you’re returning
so oiled, singing along a wrong-way river.

John Allman | Waiting Room
Contents | Mudlark No. 48 (2012)