Rash's Poetry House

[ '69 Impala ] George Has Disappeared ] Metropolitan Museum of Art ] In the Quiet of the City ] Fall Is a Comfortable Season ] Studies in Middle-Aged Casual ] Sunday at the Mall ] Mystere ] Cultural Hunger ] Lump of Clay ] You Laugh ] Becky Thatcher Poems ] For Those Days When the Words Don't Come ]

'69 Impala

An exact duplicate of the '69 Impala I drove for years
ęSteve G - used with permission

Two hundred and forty horses
push the blue-green indicator
closer to the last number on the dial.
Almost sexual vibrations overtake
the vehicle as it splits
the silence of the road,
tires singing the melody of speed.
At times you are no longer on the planet
no contact with living beings,
passing the night encapsulated
isolated, insulated
and holding sway over 2200 pounds of steel.
Caressed only the the sounds
of Boyz II Men,
you sink into the leather-clad lap,
luxuriate in the butter softness
that wraps you, enfolding like a lover.

[ '69 Impala ] George Has Disappeared ] Metropolitan Museum of Art ] In the Quiet of the City ] Fall Is a Comfortable Season ] Studies in Middle-Aged Casual ] Sunday at the Mall ] Mystere ] Cultural Hunger ] Lump of Clay ] You Laugh ] Becky Thatcher Poems ] For Those Days When the Words Don't Come ]

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Last Updated On
12/26/2005


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