Her propriétaire took this picture while her two cylinders ticked over on the pock-marked pavement; a memory of impromptu tyre fires, from générations of manifestations.
Embarrassingly, he'd left her in reverse gear.
Her centrifugal clutch engaged
And then-
Mogette crept, sans pilote, sans gêne,
Backwards, on a slight oblique
Towards the Préfet's Peugeot bleu métallique...
The chauffeur waved
And tipped his képi hat.
Only a Deuche can do a trick like that.
(Now click on the pic for a free subtitled French lesson, and a classic 2CV crash test.)
[Is that supposed
To be prose?
Leave the doggerel
To me, you mongerel
M.D'O]