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Showing posts with label mechanic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mechanic. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 10, 2024

THE TRUTH ABOUT CYNICISM

by Michael Mark




The doctor looks at the x-ray 

of my little toe and notices

a dip in his 

Money Market fund. 

 

He recommends surgery.

 

The authorization request 

is forwarded to the insurance 

company examiner who'd

been warned by management 

about being too liberal with 

approvals.

 

She reviews the doctor’s 

diagnosis, carefully 

considering her job security.

 

After reading the denial

my wife

asks why we pay so much

for insurance if we can’t

use it.

 

And why doctors go

to medical school to get 

all the knowledge 

when the insurance 

companies

have all the power.

 

And why do I 

go around without shoes 

all the time

because that’s what caused

the bump on my toe?

 

I go for a ride to blow off

steam and my car breaks down.

 

Bending over the engine, 

the mechanic 

glances at my expensive shoes

and I say,

Yeah, I know, this is going to be a big job.



Michael Mark is the author of Visiting Her in Queens is More Enlightening than a Month in a Monastery in Tibet, awarded the 2022 Rattle Chapbook Prize. Poems appear in Alaska Quarterly Review, Copper Nickel, New Ohio Review, Passages North, Ploughshares, 32 Poems, The Sun, The Best New Poets 2024.

Saturday, June 27, 2020

THE SUPREME COURT JUDGES GO TO THE GARAGE

by Gabriella Brand


File Photo from Tumblr


The blue work shirt.
The logo for City Motors.
Then her name.
The name which used to be Jim,
embroidered over the left breast.
The left breast which used to be flatter.
The voice, which used to be deeper
Oh, they teased, those other mechanics,
put tampons in the tool box,
wrote Jennifer in brake fluid
under the lift, on the toilet mirror.
The garage owner ticked off, weighing the trouble
yet knowing Jennifer was good,
better than good, reliable,
on time, quick to figure out
the rattle, the hum, the tinny sound that the
others missed.
Jennifer, not Jim. Now holding up her head.
Doing her job.
The shirt. The name. The breast. The voice.
A turn of the wrench, a law upheld.


Gabriella Brand’s work has appeared in over fifty literary magazines. Her latest poems and short stories can be found in Rockvale Review, Aji, and Comstock Review. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Gabriella lives near New Haven, Connecticut, where she teaches foreign languages and runs a writing workshop. In normal times, she travels the world on foot.