Warmer in the car,
with the Sun’s warmth through the screen,
than it is outside.
A dirty, white car
in a field of dreams;
“Needs a good wash!”
the owner screams.
Farmer Ginty is none too pleased
he didn’t want a car
and his field diseased,
with petroleum, oil, and a life of grime;
but the occupants were up
for a real good time;
the stereo was pumping,
bumper and grind;
and N-Joy meant
to lose his mind;
‘The Passenger’ blared
from the vehicle stranded;
the locals thought that the Aliens
had been and landed.
And Iggy led the passengers of that car
in a:
‘la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la-la.’
I grew up
next to the A35;
it was small and black,
almost a bubble-car;
I don’t suppose that I would fit in one now;
but, upon seeing one on the road, today,
It took me on a little journey.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Austin, #Car, #ChildhoodMemories, #NotTheRoad, #poetry. #poem, #prose
Oh, MG
WTF 101
if only I could get there with u asap
as u were pdq
but now I must let you
r
i
p.