well i wrote this up one weekend as a 5 paragraph essay for english class 
but my english teacher thought it would do better if i chopped it up and 
made it into a poem..

(no title)

Thinking, dreaming

of fixing up
my Volkswagen Vanagon,

of mating
a 300 horsepower Porsche 944
4-cylinder to a six-speed
close ratio gearbox, and somehow
(with what knowledge culled out of
the vast expanse on infinity)

gently forcing
this powertrain into my first love --
my Van, my late-model Hippie-mobile
that yearns to live
while an arythmic heart sputters, mo-
mentarily stalls out

before receiving
CPR from the weighted flywheel
which keeps cadence
as if a drummer were

repeating
endless phrases of which time has no meaning, no
meaning.

many thanks to my english teacher Mr. Saul Myers, for without him, this 
poem would not have happened.

any comments/suggestions would be helpful since this is still a work in 
progress.

thanks,
Sudhir Desai
Catonsville, Maryland

(the soon to be distinguished owner of maryland's 1st?
3.4liter v6-powered 1984 VOLKSWAGEN VANAGON)