Looking With My Fingers
Do you remember Transformers ?
Those futuristic toys of not-quite-convincing cars
That changed into those robots that looked alot like cars.
But they were such barnstormers
To the eight-year-old me so in love with the bizarre –
Though I never got to own one, so I ogled from afar.
Well I saw one on sale today,
And I’m grown up now, and can buy one if I like,
If I dare – and discover how it morphs into a bike.
But in the end I turned away –
As much as I am wanting to examine ev’ry joint,
I know that joy would turn to boredom once I got the point.
I only need to borrow one,
The same as my desire to caress a saxophone –
I just want to fiddle with the levers, then leave well alone.
But just look at all that fun !,
That pipework out of steampunk, that Lego-clockwork scrap,
And those button-keys of typewriter, to spring a better mousetrap !
It’s like a foreign language
That I know I should acquire, but I know I never will –
I swear that it’s a lack of motivation, not a lack of skill…
But if I could play a smidge,
Like learning how to code, or strumming a guitar –
I just want to know how does it turn into a car ?
Rhyming Couplets 