Alicante summer 2015 (part 1 the fiat 500)

Alicante summer 2015

Part one the car

It could have been smaller

If it had two wheels and pedals

Enthusiasm for its fuel efficiency

Gave me a similar measure

Of solace while I solved

The containment problem

How to squeeze four bags

Two adults, one lumpy boy

One smart girl, a shoulder bag

Laughter, confusion, squalling

Knees and a wife’s beautiful

Attitude into a fiat 500. I was

The miser, delegated the task

to solve the wonderful quandary

on account of been the gobshite

who inadvisably picked class z

On an economic basis

From the safety of a two hour

And thirty minute distance

Failing miserably in considering

The fitting them all in conundrum

Their eyebrows raised when

I suggested we may have to

Possibly, but not likely get out

And push the ladybird up the

Steep hills. The auburn haired one

Christened it so but I remembered

The Irish way, the father’s punto

The uncoolest ever cream one’s saviour

The high hill’s fast descent to

Stretch beyond the internal combustion

Engines defined limitations to

conquer the summit of the next.

It was all a shocking disappointment

Until the button, the special one we never

Had before, the one to transform the

Pappy Smurf’s dream automobile

vehicle into a super duper, trendy, top

Of the range wonder of a convertible.

Small expanded to the edges of the

Blue sky still capable of fitting

In the rear end of a real motor

The wife was doubtful the

Kids were delightful and I drove

In some state of hopeful

The short one 

The Feck it Philosophy

turns out the short one was a man with pride

The barkeep who winked a kiss in his face

Bleed on the stretcher while the nurse

Removed the whiskey glass shreds

He had played pitcher for a horizontally

Challenged baseball team in Japan

In some city not Tokyo some other one

He named but which I can’t pronounce

And don’t feel the inclination to spell

And the cuff wouldn’t fit but that was no

Concern to the broken down divorced cop

Who shook his hand and let him go outside

In appreciation of the damage inflicted

On a ball scratching, wife snatching, clap

Spreading son of an illigetimat father,

Who never failed to leave the shot before

The lip was reached
(C) Francie Mcgivney in spain writing for fun summer 2015

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The short one 

turns out the short one was a man with pride

The barkeep who winked a kiss in his face 

Bleed on the stretcher while the nurse 

Removed the whiskey glass shreds

He had played pitcher for a horizontally 

Challenged baseball team in Japan

In some city not Tokyo some other one

He named but which I can’t pronounce

And don’t feel the inclination to spell

And the cuff wouldn’t fit but that was no 

Concern to the broken down divorced cop

Who shook his hand and let him go outside

In appreciation of the damage inflicted 

On a ball scratching, wife snatching, clap

Spreading son of an illigetimat father, 

Who never failed to leave the shot before

The lip was reached 
(C) Francie Mcgivney in spain writing for fun summer 2015