*

Once in a great while I publish a poem of my own in the column. I was inspired to write this poem after having my car inspected at Aris Auto in Somerville.

Aris Auto, Somerville

He walks slowly to my car
white beard
a sage of the gas station.
His deliberate gait
his gimlet eyes
like some Western gunslinger
he appraises
my gone-to-seed
Honda Civic.

I know not to say anything
he’s done that
heard that
been there before
and after.

You give it to this
man
straight
with no chaser.
Expect only a nod.

He has seen death come to people
and old cars
and he has taken it all in.
He has heard the feeble sounds
of an engine singing its swan song
the clutch that freely
swings with abandon
the telltale oil slicks
marking its grave.

“Ok, your car passes. 30 bucks.”

I pay amidst
a cabal of mechanics
oil sweating on their clothes
lamenting, laughing
nodding.
Yes–and I take
it all in.

— Doug Holder

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To have your work considered for the Lyrical send it to:
Doug Holder, 25 School St.; Somerville, MA 02143
dougholder@post.harvard.edu