..... poetry .....




Assembled in March 1992
    by a devout team in Toyota City,
Four months shy of its
    18th Birth-Day 
When it met a dramatic end.

Its formative years were spent 
    under the guidance of a 
    spirited male teenager.
He would sing and imagine that his vehicle
    was actually a giant skateboard, 
    whether he was sober,
    or not.
It heard more confessionals than rants, 
    more music than silence...

Halfway into its life, 
    DARKSTAR decided it needed a new owner,
    a guide through some uncharted rural and cultural sites.
Picking an owner who commuted from the woodlands
    seemed like an obvious choice.
Better yet, 
    one who would visit many a
    concert hall, restaurant, and church, 
Though it ended up carrying nearly all its weight 
    in instruments and gear.

Try as it did to leave its former owner in the past,
    my late hours seemed to keep its old adventurous ways alive.
Craving real intimacy with the world,
    DARKSTAR met objects of near comic diversity: 
       Cow Head Folly . . .
       Deer Bouncing . . .
       Skirt Watching
 . . .
Even when it was standing perfectly still, 
     it was bent on attracting energy from the universe: 
        Leaf Paintings . . .
        Face Ripping . . .
        Kitty Sauna 
. . .

I sensed during its last two years,
    DARKSTAR had been whispering to me:
     "My friend, we've had a great ride,
      but it's time for you to get a new look.
      I can see it your eyes, and hear it in your voice...
      You dig me, though you're a tad embarrassed by me, too.
      You're movin' up, and there's a sporty car waitin'
      just for you."

Owing to my great attachment,
     I ignored that voice,
Though my partner sensed it from the beginning.

Eventually, there was a conference between, um,
    certain parties,
    and the decisive escape was planned.
They found a bicyclist to play chicken with me
    on a wet road near my house,
    and a time when my sleep account 
    was suitably lacking,
Essential for managing my reaction 
    to finding myself in a state of reverse gravity, 
    engine still running. 

The agreement was to create maximum dramatic effect,
    without injury,
    yet without the possibility of DARKSTAR's recovery.
Truly, a gesture of self-sacrifice...

Miraculously, all went according to plan—
    barely a scratch encountered,
    the cyclist safe (though livid),
    the neighbor suitably alarmed,
    the Emergency Room fast and free,
    and not a client missed!

At last, I found my next step in modern transport—
    or rather it found me,
    waiting patiently,
    the only used model of its kind within 300 miles,
    My  <<>>  LIGHT VIBE  <<>>
A remarkable combination of relaxed safety
    and unpretentious fashion,
I am still embarrassed by the forces that were needed
    to force such a meeting,
Though humbled by such Grace. 

Yes, I have finally relinquished my fate (and safety) to
Though I still look wistfully at other DARKSTARS,
    enchanted by their spirit,
    enamored by their humor. 

March 2010




©2010, Michael Smolens