The Sixties saloon six-cylinder growled:
our Triumph 2000 tiger-prowled;
rev-retarded minor models scowled.
One day dad bought an MG sports
(a male mid-life crisis of sorts)
our family of five fitted in, of course!
Few sports cars on our suburban road,
most ceded to the bourgeois code:
imaginations declined to explode!
Spoked-wheels sparkled, cartwheeled,
ecstatic eyes behind small windshield
happy hands made snub gearstick wield…
Then modest cars bought after his divorce,
gone driver dreams, farewell sparky-torque:
replaced by budget brands of ill-report…