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Marrowless highway (Free verse) by INTRANSIT

Witness the hearse driver, bright carachters, blocked by the burgeoning sable seasons. Busy love-making the she-car while wishing for the rest of this hemi-life, this 50/50 mixture that no longer works and is corroding the free flowing core. Watch the mercury rise. The full wide open throttle position will never be seen . Escape, the out of reach need, repressed by systematic crossfire, a voyager on someone elses' trip. Red and blue lights of the ambulance will never flash for her. Nor for the hearse driver.

INTRANSIT 6-Nov-03/6:45 PM
WAHOOOO!!! A feller motor-head. Good deal!!

Um, that's not what this poem is about. A hearse that can carry the fronts is always a good idea though. ANY thing that can carry the fronts. Does that ponti have the 90-V8?




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