he was working on it for the
past nine years

and the car still
wouldn’t
start

It was still sitting, rotting, in
front of the apartment
complex he was
kicked out from
after that messy divorce
from nine years ago

He wasn’t much different
before though. Every time he’d have
a fight with his wife
he’d get out
and find something to do
with the car

change a tire
replace some bolts
wash it
wax it
and so on

Nine years ago he had a name
but today they
called him Schopenhauer
because he slept with a
poodle dog
in the car

It wasn’t a neighborhood of
learned people
so not many got the
joke anyway

And it didn’t matter. The one
thing they could all
believe and understand was that
Schopenhauer’s car will
surely
start again
one day

soon

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "Schopenhauer’s car"!

Check it out HERE!

Thank you!