Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over yet another glary, gaudy, glossy car brochure;
No decision, vacillating, maybe I would end up hating
All these cars that kept parading, promising the world and more?
Promising to turn me into something I had never been before?
And then a voice said "Commodore!"

"Begone, foul voice! I have no need and further I will take no heed
Of any person, voice or deed that tries to break through my mind's door;
I need no help with my decision, can't you see I have a vision,
I shall, of my own volition, make my choice and furthermore,
Do not complicate this heady, holy Hippocratic chore"
The voice said simply "Commodore."

Ah, distinctly, I remember, on a Friday in November,
And I knew that in December I would once again be poor;
For I was about to borrow, from the bank upon the morrow,
See the interest rate- Oh Sorrow! Can they ask for profit more?
Can they ask a man to sign a loan- the final cost ignore?
Then the voice said "Commodore."

Uncertainty was like a fear - could I trust a car called Kia?
Or unpronounceable brands of cars that I had never heard before?
So that now, to still the beating of my heart I kept repeating
"Falcon Ute is fast and fleeting, Bull Bar, big lights, four on floor,
Twin Air Bags and hounds tooth seating, V8 motor at the core"
The voice said simply "Commodore."

Car brochures that gleam and glisten, praising Land Cruiser and Nissan,
Japanese, but nothing missing, shipped out to our sunny shore;
Volvos that are sent by steamer, as are Jaguar and Beamer,
Audi - they can join the team of brochures on my lounge room floor,
So I shouted "Help me, someone, make a choice, this I implore!"
           Then the voice said "Commodore."                                                                              

Look at this great glossy photo of a shiny new Toyota,
Four wheel driving in the desert on some outback nature tour;
Towing caravans so portable, crossing rivers thought unfordable,
Jumping skywards, cheering audible, when they reach the other shore,
Could I join these CB trekkers that I used to so abhor?
Still the voice said "Commodore."

In my youth, so young, and meaner, in a shiny red Cortina
With a little girl called Tina, of her love I was so sure!
In the cramped-up back seat sweating, drive-in movie, heavy petting,
And the memory of getting some disease, oh, how I swore!
Now much older still can't choose a car as good as those before,
The voice said simply "Commodore."

Once again I think it over - New Pajero or Land Rover?
Rodeo or Holden Drover, do I need a 4 X 4?
Jackaroo with turbo diesel, Cherokee with snorkel - these'll
Turn the heads of all the people on the road down which I soar,
Make a choice now - can your judgement be so bad, so wrong, so poor?
Then the voice said "Commodore."

Maybe I could throw a party, in a brand-new Maserati,
Hands-free phone and glitterati, begging to get in my door;
Driving, top-down, with some starlet there beside me like a harlot
How could such a car let me become a stuck-up yuppie bore?
Driving gloves and briar pipe and Rolex watch - is that in store?
Still the voice said "Commodore."

Could I wear a Renault blazer? Maybe Subaru's Impreza
Would allow me pluck to raise an eyebrow at the girl next door;
If I was a Magna owner, or a Toyota Corona
Never more to be a loner, girl companions, chicks galore!
Would a Laser or a Lexus be the best in which to score?
The voice said simply "Commodore."

Mental picture: Mitsubishi - quad-cam, V6, auto, swishy!
Air, rear spoiler, CD, ritzy! Here's a dream I can explore;
Leave behind this life of losing, yellow brick road, with me cruising,
Ah, sweet daydreams, softly snoozing, gently soothe my every pore,
Now I feel I have decided, now I need to fret no more...
Then the voice said "Commodore."

Mazda, Volvo, Alfa, Nissan, all these cars have something missing,
Ford (do I hear Mark Skaife hissing?) can they cross the Nullabor?
Now I know the car that's for me, brand new Magna - champagne, pour me!
No more mental anguish stormy, this is something I'll adore,
This is such a car that will become my secret paramour,
Still the voice said "Commodore."

So it came, that fateful morning, as I woke to bright sun dawning,
Dressing, brushing, coffee, yawning, walking boldly out the door;
Walking swiftly, fast toe-heeler, to the Mitsubishi dealer,
(must not beg or be a kneeler , to the salesman on the floor)
Must not show him that to wheeler-dealering I was so raw
Still the voice said "Commodore."

There's the Lancer! There! Pajero! Brand new Challenger right there! Oh
Joy! A red Mirage is here! Oh look around the showroom floor;
Salesman on the sidelines, lurking, walking over to me, smirking,
Must not have a bad knee-jerking response, though I'm really sure;
Now he comes up closer, smiling, to me standing on the tiling,
Shakes my hand and says "Now I'll enquire of you, just what's the score?
Which new car will suit your style and give you comfort you'll adore?
Which new car will satisfy you, which new auto will stick by you,
Which one is affordable by you? Just you say one word - no more...
Tell me please exactly what's your heart's desire - this I implore"
I said, leaving, "Commodore!"

      
More of my FUNNY POEMS here