Turtle Wax

They appear like ladybirds in November,
Popping unexpectedly out of another century
To roll along roads for which they were never intended –
The Sunbeam Rapiers and Hillman Imps,
The Austin Healeys and Morris Minors,
Their number plates obscure as runes,
Their bodywork glowing with colours
Which no longer have a name,
Their lines like the reconstruction of the idea of a car
By someone who has never seen a car before.
Along the roads of air bags and sat navs they motor,
The crowded lanes of overdrive and cruise control,
Proudly independent with their proudly polished chrome,
Doing their own speed because they can do no other,
Carefully equipped with tartan rugs and toilet rolls,
With Ever Ready torches and Kendall mint cake,
Prepared for everything that life might throw at them,
Knowing full well that there is only one life,
And that the best way to come through it
Is with infinite amounts of Turtle Wax
And infinite amounts of love.

By Jonathan Steffen.

Turtle Wax is published in Poetry Salzburg issue 21, Spring 2012

Photograph by Millicent Garenger, acting and voice professional on Instagram as @millicentg

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