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Which Way Is Up?
Tony Gruenewald


The sports car slingshots past me,
the morning sun sparkling
off its shining silver skin,
its license plate singing
as it effortlessly slides
through the Monday morning 
commute, increasing 
the distance
between us.

It’s been years since
I’ve had a car 
that stated anything,
or even asked for attention,
my weather-worn Hyundai
after a decade 
still as efficient and anonymous
as the workers who assembled it.
Road weary,
taken for granted,
too humbled
to demand tags
that grumble 
a bashful
“Beat Up,”
to the heedless world 
brashly passing by.


This poem first appeared in U.S. 1 Newspaper.
Used here with the author’s permission.


Tony Gruenewald lives in New Jersey and works as an archivist for major media companies in New York. He's the author of two books, The Secret History of New Jersey, and Honk, and his poems have appeared in numerous journals and publications.
Tony claims to be "an unrepentant baseball geek;" he also enjoys hiking and road trips. Learn more about him at


Post New Comment:
I drive a 'hard to find' car as in HTF when I step out of Walmart and the parking lot is full of 'roach-brown' KIA Spectras!!! Love the poem!!
Posted 12/01/2015 05:12 PM
I really like this amusing--but thought-provoking--poem. Janice
Posted 12/01/2015 10:46 AM
Lots of fun stuff here. Upbeat and beat up; bashful and brashly.
Posted 12/01/2015 09:10 AM
Love the humor and the 'up-frontness'of this poem. Diana Anhalt
Posted 12/01/2015 09:07 AM
"as efficient and anonymous as the workers who assembled it." Wonderful - and chilling.
Posted 12/01/2015 08:29 AM

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