Drip Drip Drip

I sit in a waiting room,
fear-ridden for my ineptitude.
Jerry says the oil is leaking
but the man says it’s full —
after asking if I’d checked levels,
year of the Altima – and I asked
if there was something inside to open the hood.

So I wait in my fear and my damaged self-esteem.
How full is full? Appearance counts little
when the breach is new. Skipping reading,
loosely walking the path, dilly-dallying in program…
the reservoir looks full, but it’s not if it’s not.