A shark-shaped silver car stands out, on Spruce
near Berryman. Its surface is hand-done:
a pitted, puckered, puttied poor excuse
for shining sharkskin. Still the car is fun;
it rides a trailer hitched behind a bull
with radiator ring and Brahma humps.
I see a beast of metal, set to pull
a prehistoric fish of sculpted lumps.

Like clever advertisements, whimsies such
as these enchant at first or even twice.
But cute releases good too soon. Too much
too quickly saturates. It isn’t nice
to be so ostentatious. I prefer
when episodes of elegance occur.