Transmission

 
In 2023
I commissioned my mechanic to build a new transmission,
an official intermission for a car in remission.
I love and hate my Chevy Cruze, named Nightwing
on one hand, he is the key to a thousand wonderful memories;
on the other hand, he’s an American engine,
so my prevailing thought
is that he’s in the shop more often than not.

As a teacher and grad student who couldn’t afford dental,
It was never the plan to land a long-term rental.
Instead, I commuted on foot from the West Side to Lincoln Heights,
three-hour rides,
meaning mornings began before the Dawn could ignite the first light.

Los Angeles transportation might be the worst in the nation
or so I was told by people
who’d never set foot in a station.
I dog-sat in Burbank, danced in South Gate,
stayed up all night in West Hollywood
then walked over to Silver Lake.
I played softball in Culver, basketball in Long Beach,
I ate taquitos smothered in green salsa on the lovely Olvera Street,
I yelped my karaoke songs in K-Town
and ate Bacon Wrapped hot dogs in Downtown.
I even cleaned the LA River with a couple of its friends
and I learned a lesson that was unexpected back then:
walking was never a means to an end
The journey more important than the destination.

I certainly missed the scenic drives
from Mulholland to Malibu, til the pink hit the skies.
I miss cruising through nightfall, amid the city lights and coyote cries
I missed blasting my audio waves for all to hear,
for my immaculate music collection was now constrained to my ear.

All these years later, I have been working in Watts.
Low-key, I get excited when Nightwing is in the shop.
I believe the timing was orchestrated by the Divine,
Cus as soon as I got here, Metro added a line.

The Tap card is the key that holds all the power
And this time my commute takes less than an hour.

***

(Featured image from Pexels)