“This is your 5 am wake-up call,
Wake up, Ms Cohen”.
Idle the day.
Somebody has to help them dig,
To drive and tire.
Back to the body shop,
Back to the weld.
Today’s pay is the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Her mother would hate the States of her American hands.
The lack of lacquer on her cuticle-ridden fingertips,
And the painted hood.
The priesthood with a pink-stained yoke.
She thought of taking up lying
And men after his death –
A car crash with a single coyote witness.
But rather she changed her name.
Back to the maiden,
With Marxist labourist longings.
A car is like a building,
Only it’s not.
It’s two parts contentment, and one part desire.
Paint it how you like,
Crash it backwards
For the wheelers and dealers.
A manual for men not missed.
- Nathalie Viruly (22')