I live out here alone
Under a blanket,
by the trashcans.
I know I was more popular when I worked,
and when I was worked on.
Now I hardly see my friend.
When he comes around he tells me of
“someday” and “somehow”
and I believe it every time.
Then he’ll cover me up and tuck me in
to my bed by the trashcans
and leave with a fond little pat that says
“I love you”
He does.
Trying to take care of his little rusty friend on the side yard.
The old, rundown pile of steel that someday he can be proud of.
I was the first car he ever bought.
I love you too.