Z28 Footnotes

(don’t try this at home kids!)

years ago I was real lost and damned
high somewhere above waiting river road
admiring the shine and stripes on her.

the lawless monkey clung
with sharp spurs in my back
as I heard her hurst four speed shifter calling.

we soon foolishly aimed speeding moonlit chrome
through terrible thrill lottery of unsuspecting others
on mother earths twisted roads.

it was rinzai rodeo on wild wide bucking rubbers,
deep and down with ma natures wrinkles;
all hot and revved up she was with delicious horsepower beckoning.

she called as we tore through them all,
sliding with drift screaming;
intimate and ravishing every wily weaving curve of road.

barely hanging on as we thrashed real good back and forth
in sliding sideways time from haphazard moves
on tree lined roads of living breathing earth

to the geometric and sequential manicured and captive lawns
bound and gagged with well intentioned concrete;
from blur to blur we slid and smoked, and you know about intentions.

streets of skid marked long linear straight jackets with
crisscrossed yellow striped asphalt restraining belts
were hard surface bondage. need of release had us on edge.

we thrashed all sacred and unholy with a snarl
to try to free us both from restraints somehow,
if but for a moment.

my rebops were cool and tapped her roaring footnotes,
all brash and slash smoldering strokes;
she howled strange new age zen in teckno glide calligraphy

on spinning squealing paintbrushes
backed by screaming eight piece combo from detroit;
she was a real rapid dose of rigid alloys and dense steel.

all over rural and urban canvas we painted hard rock lines in smoke.
six grand or so spun wildly while we brushed and wrote.
we searched long moments where scenery blurs and smears.

we tangled in wailing sideways strokes, to chords of gear change
after gear change after gear change; a tune of mechanical notes.
then, chasing fans under flashing ruby lights

came at us I think
for maybe autographs or more,
but couldn’t keep it up.

we grinned real loud and
gave them our best
fine fading footnotes.

(she was an ’74 Z28 LT1 slammed, jammed and with enough horsepower to smoke the tires anytime you wanted to all the way up to 120mph)

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