Mental mechanics adjusting my brain,
speed up my motor, tighten my chain.

They say I am timed right
(they can tell just by listening);
but, don’t understand why
still I am missing.

A memory perhaps, a trauma, a wreck
jarred loose some something,
they said they would check.

They tinkered, they tested,
they wired me up, gauged my
compression, then fired me up.

I trembled, I sputtered, I coughed
and I cried, I started,
then stuttered,

then died.

clj – 1980