The car was made from pickle loaf.
It was perched upon white bread.
The wheels were slices of tomato.
The engine was a cabbage head.
The seats were sticky sweet with juice
Like a Kosher pickled dill.
The tank was filled with spices
From a grinding pepper mill.
THe ignition key was broccoli.
A potato for a mirror,
With a little bug perched high on top
Saying, “objects always are much nearer.”