The cool air dank and misty, cars flying by at sixty,
Wrapped up in jackets still warm from trailer homes
Walked from to this waiting area for the school bus
To arrive on time or not, but we were there just
In the nick of time to see that most common
American tragedy.
We loved the sixties for cars
As kids we drove them in our minds eye,
Across pages of tablets intended
For academic pursuits we drew
Life into the beasts and the muscles
Power of engines protruding
Through metal cut out of hoods
Uncovering the burgeoning blowers,
Blowing our friends minds with
Adroit adaptations of the commoner
Cars that our parents drove
Like the two that collided
Before our eyes
On that early morning
Ending of lives
Before our virgin eyes crying,
Limbs and people strewn across
A bloody highway at the entrance
To Ole South Trailer Park
Where we waited
For the school bus to arrive
On time or not.
Jim Hime @2014
American tragedy.
We loved the sixties for cars
As kids we drove them in our minds eye,
Across pages of tablets intended
For academic pursuits we drew
Life into the beasts and the muscles
Power of engines protruding
Through metal cut out of hoods
Uncovering the burgeoning blowers,
Blowing our friends minds with
Adroit adaptations of the commoner
Cars that our parents drove
Like the two that collided
Before our eyes
On that early morning
Ending of lives
Before our virgin eyes crying,
Limbs and people strewn across
A bloody highway at the entrance
To Ole South Trailer Park
Where we waited
For the school bus to arrive
On time or not.
Jim Hime @2014
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