Motorcar!

the one who roars at gates and donkeys
the one with more doors than a house
the one with two rich tones of skin colour and a flashy
     v-shaped tail
the one who takes neat heads to school
     who takes sorrow to the airport
the one with strange songs bubbling out of his windows
     as he dusts off to market
the one who holds his warm nose out of the mud
     who stuffs a feast of yams in his back pocket
the one we tap and brother as he shoulders along our street
the one who gets a splashy sponge and rub-down
     every morning by his own boy
the one we own with our shiny eyes
the one called Zephyr, waxy and proud!
 

Chris Beckett

published in Modern Poetry in Translation, 2009, Freed Speech