My daughter (the one who contributes small nimble fingers for under-the-dash work, extra muscle for engine and transmission removals, and the like) has been experimenting with haiku, the Japanese 17-syllable poetry. A few samples:
Oxidized metal
And the smell of oil and grime
A Fiat is near
Revving fills the air
Driveshafts are attached at last
White car is alive
Fiat X1/9
Hell on wheels in the slalom
Too slow in the straight.
Car, why won't you run?
Because you are a Fiat.
So you will not run.
Like a phoenix
rising from rust flakes and grease
a fiat emerges
Loose weatherstripping
It really annoys the wife
The targa top leaks.
Oxidized metal
And the smell of oil and grime
A Fiat is near
Revving fills the air
Driveshafts are attached at last
White car is alive
Fiat X1/9
Hell on wheels in the slalom
Too slow in the straight.
Car, why won't you run?
Because you are a Fiat.
So you will not run.
Like a phoenix
rising from rust flakes and grease
a fiat emerges
Loose weatherstripping
It really annoys the wife
The targa top leaks.
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