the mechanic

he loved cars.
the older
and more work
they needed
the better. a little
rust was good.
scratches and split
upholstery was
welcomed.
an engine
missing a beat,
a starter
the whirred
incessantly or
an axle out
of sync made
him smile. he swooned
over
the puzzle of
a sticky valve,
lifting the hood
with an oily
wrench in hand.
so when he married
again
for the third
time, a troubled
and broken down
woman, you could
see the pattern
of his life
more clearly.