I’ve had a busy week tweaking my blog, what do you think of the changes? I like the animated photo thing, I’m going to start adding artwork when I can. In the meantime, I have written a bit more poetry this week. I’m not intending for this to become a poetry blog, but I think for a few weeks it will be OK.

This week’s poem is about buying a second hand car. It has had many rewrites and shuffling of lines but I am finally happy with this version. I’m filming a video of me reading it but I’m struggling reading it out loud with the pace it deserves! Keep your eyes peeled though!

Second Hand Car by Liam Overend

Last week I picked up a second hand car

I bought it off a bloke int’ Shangri-La

Not the place, no-no, but the local bar

He’s a drinking buddy of my step-Pa

They work together in the abattoir

He got the motor from someone afar

I think he said somewhere like Zanzibar

The circumstances sounded quite bizarre

But I gave him the cash and he said ‘Ta’

He handed me the keys and said ‘Ta-ra’

It had black bodywork like caviar

And the seats were dark red like hot magma

The headlights shone and twinkled like stars

I thought I’d go and show it off to me Ma

Take her for a spin, take her to the Spar

She lived pretty close, it wasn’t that far

But on my way there I skidded on tar

I was trying to get past a motorbike and sidecar

I ended up crashing, the car was FUBAR

Trapped, I could only get the door open ajar

But soon I heard sirens wailing ne-nah ne-nah

And a copper came up and said ‘ooh, la-di-da’

‘Who do we have here, some flash superstar?’

He had a terrible moustache, like a handlebar

He looked like he should have been playing guitar

But he helped me get out of my Jaguar

Asked if I’d been drinking and that repertoire

‘Looks like you’ve been sliced with a scimitar’

He reckoned my cuts might leave a scar

Asked me ‘Do you know how lucky you are?’

And then he went on with his seminar

But all I could hear was ‘blah-blah-blah-blah’

My mind had switched to my financial mar

There were no more coffers in my money jar

This vehicle had just cost me my last dinar

I’d have to get a cheap one from Bratislava

I nearly had it all, a car well above par

I don’t want to go back to driving a flaming Lada

Why did I have to crash in the reservoir?

Reminds me of that saying, close, but no cigar