Archive for July, 2017

O Mr. Accord-with-the-blue-metallic rims you

and I fly low

doing 80-something

on Route 90-something —

sometimes in tandem, sometimes on

either side of, say,

a punk bus — one of the big white ones that roar from city to city

ferrying students and restaurant workers at unsafe speeds

in questionable equipment.

O, your blue rims catch the sunlight as you

swoop from lane to lane, fancy-bright, strange to see

on a boring car in a shade my Grandfather would have called

Mafia Blue.

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