Sherman Alexie

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Auto Repair

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Auto Repair

a poem

Sherman Alexie
Aug 25, 2022
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Auto Repair

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person holding lighted oil lamp

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When you grow up poor, 
everything in your life
feels like a dull knife 
falling. You don't mean

to reach for the blade
but you end up bleeding
anyway. I remember sitting
in shitty cars as my mother

or father turned the key
and all we heard
was the click, click, click
of a broken ignition 

or piston or some sick
and mysterious part.
Then would come
the cursing and pounding

of the steering wheel,
followed by the slump
of shoulder and shame.
Decades later, my car

is dependable. I too often
take it for granted.
But, today. I'll celebrate
those moments when

the whirr, whirr, whirr
of a working engine
sounds like a church choir
singing to a gorgeous fire.


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Auto Repair

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28 Comments
Freddy Herrera
Aug 27, 2022Liked by Sherman Alexie

😂

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Sarah
Aug 27, 2022·edited Aug 27, 2022Liked by Sherman Alexie

Trevor Noah writes of a similar sentiment in his bio “Born a Crime.” He traces the most terrible things that ever happened to him back to crappy cars. Man, this poem resonates with me and the panic I associate with the cars of my childhood. It strips you and never really goes away. There’s more than one way to be stranded. Thank you. And thanks to my Toyota with 171K on it that never gives me trouble now. Y’all stand the test of time. Keep going places.

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