The garages in my neighborhood are filled to capacity.
Oh no, not with cars; one would fit in only miraculously.
I suppose there are tires or engine parts in boxes or on shelves
Boundless discoveries can be made, pending how deeply one delves.
You will find all kinds of junk in disarray and not very appealing
But if you take delight in hoarding, one look and you’d be reeling.
As for me, I am the garage owner who likes to keep his car inside.
The family has learned by now this is one rule they must abide
The residents will soon be moving.
There is lots of miscellaneous and
still useable items.
Some old growth redwoods
and fishable seas, some
and unpolluted shores,
bargains galore so
The day had come,
The decision made.
The door went up,
And stuff fell out.
Oh what have I done?
Why was today the day?
Where do I start?
What should I do first?
Mrs. O’Leary from down the street
Owned a Chevy and also a Dodge.
She must’ve sold them both, I guess.
Why else would she sell her garage?
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in the garage
There sat in the corner, a classic old Dodge
My sixty nine Charger, near ready to go
To all of next season’s burnouts and shows
Its perfect black body, with a white R/T stripe
Red leather interior, the seats are just right
A pistol grip shifter coming up through the floor
Now hooked to a six speed, not five, and not four.