Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Poetry/ Motorhead Dreams

Me and my 1979 Trans Am
after I replaced the stock
Olds 406 with a 455 SD

     I grew up in a time ruled by the great three Gods,the world new them as Ford, Mopar and General motors. They sat in bucket seated thrones on high and ruled the kingdoms of Rivers and Bushy Park . They held court late into the night in roadside castles known throughout the land as McDonalds, Roberts and JM Fields where they watched as their sons Mustang, Camaro, and Cuda fought a war for our hearts and minds. The weapons they bore were known throughout the land as Hemis, Cobra Jets, and Super Duties. Their hearts were made strong by Holley quads, Webber six packs, and fuel injectors. They cast their spell of power over us using the Magical, Mystical numbers of, 289,302,350,596,426,440 and 455, invoked by the great wizards from Detroit like Shelby and Yanko and we were mesmerized. 
     Battle was waged a quarter mile at a time, with the winner vanquishing his foe in less than 10 seconds as we cheered our hero's on. They roared great rumbling sounds of victory, as they rocketed away into the night, tires squealing, out of sight and into our memories. Leaving us behind, covered in great clouds of burnt rubber that anointed us as the chosen few. Left on our own to dream that one day we would get to be the sons of Gods ourselves.

No comments:

Post a Comment