Poem 45

This post is a week late, but I wouldn't have written this poem if I had posted then.

I've always had an ambivalent stance on repairing cars. Even simple tasks like changing a light bulb can frustrate me and sometimes I'm just plain clueless. I once needlessly swapped out an alternator when the problem was in the fuel system. After I'm done, though, and washing my hands in hotter water than I normally use, I get a feeling I find nowhere else. It's certainly accomplishment but a variety all its own.

Instructions for Replacing a Headlamp in a Honda Accord

First you must put it off
for a few days even after
patting yourself on the back
for visiting the parts
department the morning after
noticing that half the road
faded sooner into dark.
Once Wednesday night
delivers a load of papers to grade,
use replacing the bulb
as a break and plan for
about a fifteen minute job.
IMPORTANT: do not
prepare. Do not
consult any kind of guide
before stomping downstairs
to the parking garage.

Grasping a flashlight,
the offset
screwdriver you
think you will need,
and a 7/16 confidence,
open the hood and
look at how the air intake
looms up against
the back of the light
like a boss.
It is too close,
no matter how your skinny
fingers grip the clamp
on the bulb
and try to turn
it clockwise.

Sweat into the coat.
After 10 minutes
of swearing and wondering,
plod up the stairs
to the laptop
to firmly Google a variety
of phrases until,
on a forum somewhere,
you figure out what to do.

Return to the garage
grip the air intake
like a handshake
before a wrestling match.
Lift and tug until
you think you will
screw your whole car
up. Look at your watch
and notice how 10 p.m.
creeps from shadows
behind the Mazdas and
Fords, the Jaguar.
Suppose you can
get along for a few more days
and resolve to finish
the job Saturday.
Take the elevator,
you’ve earned it,
and sulk about how
incompetent your car
has made you feel.

On Saturday, wake
up and return.
The air intake will
pop easily from the socket,
leaving a hand’s
worth of space for
you to turn the bulb
counterclockwise
(even without the
WD-40 you bought).
Being careful not
to touch the bulb,
insert it and turn clockwise.
Clamp the cord on.
Close the hood
and check the lights,
the victory song of the
lights-on alert
will resound until you
shut the door.

Turn off the lights
and lock up.
Mop up Wednesday’s
struggle and cursing
from the concrete
with a standard nap
and the feeling of
floating, like releasing
the parking break
after trying to drive home
from the movies.