Greysoul & Takata
Takata
Hey, ever wondered if a car’s engine could be seen as a kind of living poem, where each rev echoes the rhythm of our own thoughts?
Greysoul
It does feel that way, each rev a line and the whole engine a rhythm you can almost read if you pause between the sounds.
Takata
I’d say if you listen close, the spark plugs are punctuation, the throttle a pause, and the exhaust just a lingering sigh that completes the stanza. Just keep the rhythm going and you’ll get the whole story.
Greysoul
That’s a beautiful way to look at it, but sometimes the engine forgets to breathe properly, and the poem stutters.
Takata
It’s just the air and fuel throwing a tantrum—clean the throttle, tweak the timing, maybe give the spark a little more drama—then the poem will flow again.