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1967 Ford Carmine Jalopy (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer
Emerald eyes gaze over dented metal
painted a faded ruby red;
the shell that coats
my broken down 1967 Ford.
The pathetic sight of this
deformed vehicle invokes
the frustrated sighs
of self pity.
Jean-clad ass cheeks slide
into an off-white leather seat.
My inner universe descends
into a twilight trance.
Frayed tires roam intumescing
ferroconcrete, unfolded infinitely
along the gangdoms of Los Angeles.
My tongue besmeared scorched,
vodka flavored lips,
while uttering vulgar complaints
in a spout of california road rage.
Thoughts effuse in a super-sonic flux,
focused on how I'm gonna pay back
my Korean peddler for all those
opiate influenced nights
that were mulcted onto my tab.
Inflamed eyeballs glare through
my begrimed windshield to discover
scores of abandoned hondas, wagons,
Damned yuppies appreciate nothing.
Their compact, jap-made tin cans
are conveniently designed
to fit in the sardine slots
of sun-baked parking lots.
Rarely do I ever find a goddamn
polished, achromatic double bed
for my over the hill pollution machine.