I saw a version of this poem many years ago in an auto parts store and recently at a boat dealer. With a bit of literary license, I added and edited a few stanzas. Hope you like it.

ODE TO AN OUTBOARD PARTS CLERK

I work behind the counter
In an outboard motor store;
Sometimes I'm called a genius,
Sometimes I'm called much more.

I claim I'm no technician,
Yet when a job goes sick,
Some guys will call and ask me
What makes the damn thing tick.

I'm supposed to know the numbers
For every bolt and nut and screw,
On each and every outboard made,
Both 10 years old, and new.

If parts don't fit and you get mad
And give me all the blame,
Remember same-size engines,
Ain't always all the same.

But life would be a pleasure
And I'd grin from ear to ear,
If customers could just tell me
The Model, Make, and Year