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Poem: Ode To My Jeep 

Everyone wants me to trade my old girl in
She’s a gas guzzler
She’s ugly, I mean,
are you really going to park that beast
next to my smooth BMW?
Her spray paint might rub off
and stain our image
She’s a hillbilly Jeep
She’s rusted and rutted
and holey

Holy indeed, my old girl
It’s just us now
The longest most intimate relationship
I ever had to anyone
or anything
How could I let you go?

You helped me escape
and also contained me
I am the turtle meat, you are the shell
Inside are secret screams and rantings and prayers
that you’ll never disclose
My old girl, my confidante
old faithful friend

You move me
carry me
hide me
You were my homeless shelter
Indian blanket in the back
and enough food and water for a week

Holy indeed
A church
A sanctuary
My big red four wheel
They say you’re losing your looks, babe,
but you’re a stunner to me

Let’s holler “Road Trip!”
and drive to the end of the land
We haven’t smelled salty air in over ten years
I’ll stop often
You can rest
and I’ll make car sandwiches on your hood

There at the edge of the world
where rubber meets sea glass and mud babies
the lighthouse will decide our next destination
and if goodbyes or hellos
are the order of the day
Holy Holy Holy

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Speaking of...

  • A poem by Maryann Stafford.

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