RED CAR

Friday Night

or Saturday?

Everybody too drunk to remember –

buzzing, high on life.

That guy. Dr Whatever.

Everybody called him Dick. He rated himself highly.

Nobody can remember if he was a medium, mediocre

or a great scientist.

But the consensus was –

‘He’s a dick.’

 

Dick had a new car.

It was a dick of a car.

When Dick was in the toilet

4 others ran outside.

It was a heavy-price dick of a car.

It was a lightweight dick of a car.

They lifted it,

moved it to another spot.

They got back to the pints,

waited for the biggest laugh.

Dickhead ran in

yelling –

Manhood ego machine,

stolen.

 

Everybody laughed

as he spun around looking for a phone to call the police.

Everybody laughed

when he lay in the space where his car used to be.

Everybody laughed

when they told him they’d moved it.

Through his blurry eyes,

he didn’t see the funny side.

When they took him to the spot they thought it was,

it wasn’t there.

But that’s only cos everybody had drunk so much

they had forgotten where they’d dumped it.

 

The following Friday,

they stopped calling him Dickhead.

He left his car at home.

He was saying ‘Cheers’ with everybody else,

which made sense

as he lived

staggering distance

from the bar anyway.

 

Nobody should drink and drive.

No matter how clever they think they are.