I'M learning the automobile; as, trembling, I sit at the wheel, and steer her along, through the hurrying throng, how nervous and awkward I feel! I jolt people out of their lids, I run over chickens and kids; a spurt she will throw when I want to go slow, she scampers, skedaddles and skids. I sweat, and I'm weak in the knees, when swift around corners she flees, she whimpers and whirs and she gurgles and purs, and runs into fences and trees. My courage she constantly damps by running down bow-wows and tramps; she collided today with a big heavy dray, and busted her fenders and lamps. I drive her around for an hour, this engine of terrible power; wherever I stray, on my death-dealing way, of feathers and fur there's a shower. At night, when I go to my bed, fierce nightmares abide in my head; I dream my new truck is just running amuck, and leaving a windrow of dead. I run over chickens and goats, I run over roosters and shotes; and oft, in my dream, do I raucously scream, "My auto is feeling her oats!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRAIRIES by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT DYING SPEECH OF AN OLD PHILOSOPHER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SONNET: A PREACHER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 37. AL-HALI by EDWIN ARNOLD S. BARTHOLOMEW by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE ROAD MENDERS by LAURENCE BINYON THE MAN WHO RODE TO CONEMAUGH by JOHN ELIOT BOWEN |