This poem was written by my grandfather, George Walter Supple, in what we believe was the 1940s (judging by the paper, and the pencil it was written in). It is reproduced here, exactly, including any errata written in the original. Enjoy ~ Leticia
The Mechanic’s Dream
A young mechanic courted for just about a year
A charming little damsel with idea’s so very queer,
She was a modern girl, devoid of sentiment
She thought of jazzing but seemed to be content
To talk for hours about different makes of cars
The topic of their hearts.
Cars were on their brains even at meals
They never spoke of anything but what it was on wheels
The couple then got married on their wedding night
The conversation was really worth a book to write,
And when he saw her standing quite undressed,
He felt a sudden swelling underneath his vest.
She cuddled closer and on his corns she trod
And said isn’t it a beauty your stiff connecting rod,
He answered, yes my darling I can put the point
Of my connecting rod in your universal joint,
Certainly my dear, but tell me do
Those nuts underneath your rod require another screw,
Without those nuts my dear, my rod could be no use
They work the carburettor and through them comes the juice.
And then he lay upon her with her throttle open wide
But he couldn’t get a start not matter how he tried,
He asked her was her intake free and working well
She said, you’d better have a look, I’m sure I cannot tell,
He gave her then an overhaul and trouble he did spy
He found the radiator was getting dry
Out of bed he jumped and found a pot of grease
Said he a drop of this should give a lot of ease,
Soon he got his rod up and dropped it into gear.
He let his clutch in with a jerk and poked it in her rear,
She skidded around beneath him and asked for extra air
You choked my exhaust by putting it in there,
I’d rather steer myself dear, he answered with a grin
As she picked up his piston and put it in her ring,
Accelerating quickly when he found the spot
Inside seventy seconds he was flat out in top.
Her timing was perfect she never missed a stroke
Her graceful body quivered to his pistons pull & poke,
The juice was running reckless her bearing running hot
She didn’t worry if he eased up or not
And just as she was bolting her chassis working loose
His carburetta flooded and filled her up with juice.
