Monday, December 10, 2007
A broken alternator belt lays in a garbage bin at an auto shop. It is drenched with grease. Its cold and dead and Its been squeeking for along time now. And at the first winter freeze, it failed to catch, because of the nature of its design. It was built a certain way; built with limits and conditions. Its Japanese designers made the decision that in order to save money it would be constructed with cheaper materials. They would pass these savings on to someone. But as time passed the chemicals that made this alternator belt, created in a science lab with glass beekers and noctious gasses, dried up and passed on into the air(they will enter inside you like a gross demon). The snapped belt has not seen his owners face, but its burrows frow. It has been neglected by its fat driver. Everyday this fat man starts him, turning the ignition key. He squeels at his driver like a fat pig and then goes silent. The driver ignores him. The driver gets angry and impatient in traffic. His bridges are falling in his cities. His traffic is congested. His dollar is failing. He honks his horn and says "fuck you mother fucker" with spitting anger when gets cut off on the antiquated intersates. Then the driver complains when I fail him in the morning. I finally gave him the "fuck you" when he tried to start me. He jumped me and he felt relief when I started. But I tricked that fat fuck. I failed him on the highway. He pushed the accelerator, merging on the highway, and my corroding friend the battery decided to give him the fuck you as well. Now I lay dead without purpose, thrown away. And so all I can do now is lay here strewn about, drenched in oil and shivering. So i pray the gods will judge me accordingly.