sweet maybaline

your uncle had a name
for every thing,
each tool, each wrench
that hung in the garage.
mabel was his car.
old mabel, he'd whisper
tenderly, his hands caressing
the fender he just polished.
oh how I love her.
she never lets me down.
sweet mable.
come on baby, he'd murmur
when cranking the engine.
she gets me where I need
to go, he'd say
keeps me warm
and dry
in the rain, the sleet
the ice, the snow.
mable for short,
maybaline when
she was waxed
and cleaned for a
Saturday night.
it almost made you forget
how mean he was
when he talked about
mable, always with sweet
nothings to his car,
never a word unkind.