well i wrote this up one weekend as a 5 paragraph essay for english class but my english teacher thought it would do better if i chopped it up and made it into a poem.. (no title) Thinking, dreaming of fixing up my Volkswagen Vanagon, of mating a 300 horsepower Porsche 944 4-cylinder to a six-speed close ratio gearbox, and somehow (with what knowledge culled out of the vast expanse on infinity) gently forcing this powertrain into my first love -- my Van, my late-model Hippie-mobile that yearns to live while an arythmic heart sputters, mo- mentarily stalls out before receiving CPR from the weighted flywheel which keeps cadence as if a drummer were repeating endless phrases of which time has no meaning, no meaning.
many thanks to my english teacher Mr. Saul Myers, for without him, this poem would not have happened. any comments/suggestions would be helpful since this is still a work in progress. thanks, Sudhir Desai Catonsville, Maryland (the soon to be distinguished owner of maryland's 1st? 3.4liter v6-powered 1984 VOLKSWAGEN VANAGON)
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