For May's Poem of the Month I have chosen the poem 'Engine Trouble' by James O’Sullivan. It is taken from his collection Kneeling on the Redwood Floor.

Old Gas Pump by Junior Libby

The sputtering is always how it starts –
first you feel it, then you hear it –
then you feel and hear it as it grinds
itself, and you, and all your companions,
to a halt – no matter where, or when.
Sweet, sweet uninterrupted rumbling
can be swiftly silenced by a thousand
differing things, in as many differing
ways – what matters is that you’re stopped.
We’d curse all others, before we’d curse
ourselves, walking, as we do, four miles
back to the nearest pump, where we can
right the wrongs that others caused.