THE OLD MG

The Old MG

I remember the Old MG we had at work, reflecting on your past; Well we are getting older now hey Poet; half of a centuroy.

I liked it's analogue ways, fix it over the phone. I know the old beast was a little untidy, a little like Geoffo's SS if you consider

authenticity; But it gave our clients a great service, just ring up and if we can't fix it over the phone then bring the Old MG

K29's Dunlop's an all. Technically, it was fantastic, but like luxury wise? you thought the Old MG sucked

And for the office, well you thought it was hopeless....hey

But for the blokes, the MG was good. Gosh we did over fifteen million with Old MG

No! ..........you said "It's got to go,"

What I could never understand Poet is why you had to employ the new vehicle, stabbing the Old MG in the back.

Oh I heard you that day, "You know we're going to get rid of ....." To the new guy . I watched the tyres deflate

You'd pump 'em up and the stress would set in as it was confined to an Office for longer than was needed, and

The service costs when up when the Old MG worked faster, but then you had the office running that one second faster didn't you?

Out with the blokes and service over a mobile was good for the MG.

I drew up the plans for that Old MG's extension and it did a great job opening up more space where it resided.

I enjoyed talking about the V8 supercars and the Old MG would take me there, in style and trouble free,

but it always broke down when you thrashed it like so many others that broke under your emotional abuse, Mr. Hindsight.

You knew Poet, that the MG had commitments and family, but you didn't care did you, it had to go, and the way you did it, so nasty.

I always listened to you wane; about the performance, and when you were facing personal crisis we supported you,

do you remember? when you were flat on your back and when you sat like a sulking female in the office having your crisis?

You wanted to do those stupid small jobs that I didn't; and I was angry, but then you said I was like a Brother,

And I guess a lot of my friends are pseudo brothers for I loved any friendly family situation, you bastard, you using bastard.

Isn't it strange how I understood that word meant something real and that I only drove the Old MG towards client performance,

I guess you have something to prove. To find the missing peace, or is Nugget's payout your style, guess so. Using Children for your

personal gains in life - walking around proclaiming Morals.....I'm almost sick thinking of your good deeds. The toad from Toad hall.

Our story "The Whine & How we " - a drama novel by A. Poet - " a novel for Disciplining naughty emotional Children"

Maybe you should be reading "A course in miracles" - A.F. Skutch - Migratory patterns of 'Partners'

"My Fathers & his best friend is you in me reverse, hey; in horror scope, but then you wouldn't understand my old fella,

as he respects his mate like a brother and we all know how you protect your own family don't we? I mean those office funnies?

We supported many a family and by god didn't we have fun; Tanswell's pub at Beechworth and then those awesome Mountains.

You looked so happy then and I revered those moments, The sad part is whilst you were scheming you missed out on a whole lot of

fun. I hope your Son's don't have to feel the conditional love you preach but their not allowed to dream of a future, hey Poet.

Although from what I've heard, I guess they have no expectations of you as a Father anyway

Sad, I knew that you could give to others .....when 'you' showed us a little of your humour when you made us laugh,

when you hung out like all of us did, It's just this bloody hypocrisy of you also conditioning my acceptance with I,

with everyone who'd listen to you. That I was wrong of moral, that I caused everything, that I talked you into this and that..,

thrown to the gutter. penniless as you joined in with a band of respondents using the buckles that couldn't hold you back.

Actually sitting down and gloating at my kitchen table, Whine, Whine, writing a plan out that would leave the partner who actually

cared for you as your brother penniless and intentionally facing bankruptcy. How do you sleep or is it with Mr. Piggy.

Cutting out words from a newspaper, the 'How we' curse, I mean were you jealous of something Poet.

Fiddled the value-add that was added to the company and give away all happiness and so its gone, Happy?

Use the same legal counsel? but you see you can't hurt me because I won't ever hate like you do. You can't force me to become a

bottom grovelling gutless female man like you because I don't need to use Children for my personal gains.

Pay less and repair the morals, but what was your true motive as you always had expectation?

That you could turn your back on a man you called Brother, the same man who hugged you in Hospital and said "It will be alright".

Walk in the MG's garage again Poet an look around at the memories we have and say to yourself that you don't care about anything,

The train set you stole meticulously from Geoffo's. The plastic Ships I put together for you Poet fell down from Heaven yesterday.

I don't know why? You dumped so many good men and what for ? To be in control of why it's all gone wrong,

Plead to the Valuer and to my Mother Waivs, That he hasn't provided for his girls! Get a job for Christ sake. How low can you go

Each time that you were hugged, remember who boosted of your spirits, and who was complaining.

I knew you were controlled by the S.S.

You didn't understand that Force was the meaning of your words Poet and that was aimed at the heart of that Old MG.

I knew that you had changed your tune from your Greek interview I've captured which says some interesting stuff about partners

But you only ever did concern yourself with pie man's missus tits, Mr. Civil; don't you remember, stray routes on trips

The heads up is you and Mr. Piggy have destroyed what good we had and you have used everyone for a whole lot of debt.

I always say, Conditional acceptance is, when I'm down I expect and when they muck up you'll get rid of them, hey Mr. Chewing Gum

Are those your thoughts POET "Are you so bloody righteous or just buried in lies about a good man"

The mind numbing fantasy that reveals your true character of desire and apathy

and for what Poet

"to buy the business that you so badly wanted to be away from three times?"

Well, all these years later I'm finding out all sorts of things about you Old Mate and it will be quite painless for me...