be done with it

the car
rusts in the garage,
propped up
on four cinder blocks,
the wheels
taken off,
the hood up,
wires stiffly rising
like medusa's
hair.
seats are rotted,
the yellowed foam
billowing out.
he leans with flashlight
and book,
studying what needs
to be done next
to get it back on the road,
restored
to new.
you want to say tow
it to the dump and be done
with it.
but you say that
about every failed
love affair,
so you don't.