Street Racing Gallery - A Poem By Jeff
Beard (Thanks Jeff for sharing your poem with us!)
[Light Years] By Jeff Beard
Land sharks patrol the roadways
roll their eyes
and stop a Plymouth
dead on 1.
Sweaty grim streets
take on dark evening sports.
Grid locked by endless canals of asphalt
I drive
then stop
to fall
(in sync)
on Red.
rearview mirror soap operas claim my attention
not to mention the skirts flirting for money...
(“wanna party, honey?”)
Along side
390 painted horses
rumble
pound
shine chrome
and tease...
-the Green.
A vulcanized scream and vaporized rubber
fills the atmosphere with a smoky blue velvet elixir
filtering the stoplight repertoire
of red, yellow, and green
as a curled wake of torn fabric neon night
crawls on my hood and begins to dream.
I stood
full throttle
in order to pursue
suspension showing me
an eleven-degree view
of the horizon.
I fight the wheel
shift
gear to gear
in desperate fear of losing her...
while she passes
I am caught
held
and let go
all by a blonde running a Chevelle.
(as she moves out of sight)
Tonight
I’ll climb the curb
race the stars
in my car.
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