in the old days,
when most cars were junk.
breaking
down as you drove them off
the show room floor,
the first killing
frost would doom
the battery and someone would
be tapping on
your car window
asking you if they could
get a jump.
they'd show you their
cables
swinging them in the air
like rubber snakes.
so you'd get out,
lift the hood after easing
your car
in front of theirs
and plug the clamps on
to the bolts.
okay. start her up, you'd
yell. always referring to
the car as a woman,
because it reminded you
of so many woman you
had known,
who also, on a cold morning,
wouldn't turn over.
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