Donald A Hagelberg's Comments

Auto Wash
In Memory of Richard Aimo Hieta

I squirt the bottom of the pail
With liquid soap, then water-fill,
Quite full, until the top
Flows over in a jam of froth.
I hear each bubble burst
And hand-shroud my ears in utter uselessness
Trying not to hear each explosive sphere
I suspect of being improperly punctuated.
This auto-wash occurs once a year;
Parking allotted at the newer Finnish Hall.
And the teens applaud the seniors as they
Hand over the keys to their dream cars.
First the subs and rubs,
Then, at the next “Station of the Auto,”
Trickles the rinse to be followed by
The window squeegee and the chamois dry.
Finally attention is transported to the inside
In which the upholstery is damp-ragged down
While some saint vacuums both mats and carpet.
Richard Aimo Hieta drives-out the car, done.
Fifty years ago we did not know
How exhausted autos were and drove them
On Industry’s recommendation because those
Seeking passage lived beyond the accidental pause.
What irritates more? Finding out that
You’ve been told an advertised untruth?
Or that soapy-water snapped into ancient eyes
Stings away the illusive wheels of the juvenile?
-©Copyright 2009 by Don Hagelberg