The guy with the shiniest car in the street
Has reasons he keeps it so neat,
As across from him, row upon row,
Are curtain less windows
Where women constantly change.
Some shed clothes quicker than skin,
Whilst others age from within,
Yet more switch their makeup and hair
To match their affairs
And leave vision little to arrange.
And all on show in checker box holes
From him to tick when available,
In rain, snow or shine you’ll find him
Cleaning and climbing
All over his automobile,
Heedless of the fact that the motor and
Its motions have been broken
For several years now, and floundered
Outside his ground, and his
Licence has long been repealed.
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