Chicano Poet

Monday, August 29, 2005

Henry’s Joy Ride

Henry hot rods his rice burner
around the twisty curves
of hillside streets

from Wal-Mart to Henry’s house,
sliding all four tires
around the corners, little Jack Horner

like a horny teenager.
Henry forgets he’s an old codger
but he can still drive the wheels

off a car, forget the scars,
forget close-calls,
forget the times he’s outrun cops.

Turning the last corner near his house
he slams the car into gear,
pops the clutch, floors the gas.

He parks in his driveway,
where the heck did he leave what he bought,
the Depends, the new walker, the Preparation H?

2 Comments:

At 1:12 PM, Anonymous Pearl said...

I enjoyed that one.

 
At 9:38 AM, Blogger RC said...

Thanks for your comments,Pearl.

 

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