All My Relations
have gone sour, even the one with my mechanic
who keeps toying with me—She’ll be ready at 2,
uh, make that 3. Or: Parts unavailable, come back
Monday. And that click when I hit the brakes
after replacing both rotors and pads—
that can’t be good. Last week a friend
raged at me for something she did.
Classic Narcissist! screams a meme
as I scroll social media, waiting for repairs.
But it’s more complicated than that, this trying
to untangle dead-end relationships that seem
to either overheat or stall. So I’m spending
money I don’t have to find out what skill set
I’m missing, where my engine needs grease.
My therapist says some relationships run out
of gas, others are clunkers, quick to break down.
But I never see it coming. I pay the insurance,
change the oil, schedule 52-point checkups.
And then the bottom rusts out.
*
Nancy Huggett is a settler descendant writing and caregiving on the unceded Territory of the Anishinaabe Algonquin Nation (Ottawa, Canada). Find her work in Event, ONE ART, Poetry Northwest, and Rust and Moth. She’s won awards (RBC PEN Canada 2024 New Voices Award) and a gazillion rejections. She keeps writing.
Nancy, beautiful, extended metaphor, amazing. (Carla Schwartz)
Thanks for the help!
Love this and can completely relate. Brava!
You and me both, Babe. And let’s not even go into sneaky tires with slow leaks…😉🙂
Love the poem AND the bio!
Nancy, your poem got my attention with the title, then sustained me the whole way through. I enjoyed the wit and the metaphor of the vehicle as relationships. And, of course, I could relate.