Three yellow tulip petals
embellish the driveway. Crushed rock glistens
after the rain.
First Saturday in April. Car won't start.
This is a problem
never envisioned by Wang Wei.

After two hours spent fooling with it,
pondering at length
the intricacies of the internal combustion engine,
I emerge from under the hood,
but triumphant:
the bastard finally starts!

And then the oil filter blows.

Dropping to my knees,
with concentrated effort I observe
the puddle of cold, black oil—a little flood—
seep into the gravel,
back to the earth
whence it came.

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