Song of the Wiper
     by W. H. Charnock

  Flip Flop, Flip Flop,
     Never falter, never stop,
  Through mist and mud and sleet and snow
     On and on and on I go,
  The same by night and the same by day,
  Chucking the raindrops out of the way;
     Call it an easy job but, Lord,
  A chap gets stiff and a chap gets bored
     With the same old swish and same old slop,
        Flip Flop, Flip Flop.

  Flip Flop, Flip Flop,
     Waiting for the rain to stop;
  Everything else has some sort of a range,
     The gear box gets no end of a change,
  Charburettors choke and cough,
  The lights on on and the lights go off,
     Tyres can go from soft to hard,
  Even the spark can advance and retard,
     But I go on until I drop,
        Flip Flop, Flip Flop.

  If I might indulge in a skip and a hop
     Such as a Flip Flop, Flipperty Flop,
  Or even the tiniest ghost of a skip
     Like Flop Flop, or Flip Flip,
  That at least would something be
  To break this damned monotony,
     But never a chance, I keep on turning,
  Gears gone dry and windings burning,
     Till my armature goes pop,
        Flip Flop, Flip Flop.

<no, really. this is a real guy who wrote poems about cars.
from the collection, Horseless Savages, 1952.
other works by the same author were
Empherid, Down in the Sumps (out of print in 1952),
and Unbalanced Cranks (not yet published in 1952).>