Dusk one evening
dialing back to
right after Disco
was ditched to the tune
of bad boys.
My cousin, Dennis
in his ’67 GMC pickup truck
we met on Lincoln Street
along evergreen row
where the trees lined
the public swimming pool and park
now shuttered for fall and
the cool rush of football fever.
We were in rare form,
runners, tacklers.
He was
kicking up dust and
spinning donuts
in that GMC,
gears three on the tree
beating Bandit’s Trans-Am.
I spotted him
and turned around
his truck door open,
he glances down
watching the cut of his tires
in the gravel.
He spies me
showing off in a massive spin-twirl
dust clouds in the night
thick and swirling
I look up to see
headlights and the outline of a truck
the GMC gliding along
sans driver
it came up beside me
and hung there rather eerily
cruising the night like a
ghostly James Dean legend
sideswiping the stop sign
ricocheting off and
heading for a line of parked cars.
Then I see Dennis
running like a track star
swearing, sweating
clenching his jaw
sprinting to catch it.
In 2012, they finally
straightened the sign
but you can still tell where
it was slightly bent,
no further damage done.
Oh yeah, doing donuts and blasting the Van Halen.
And falling out of the vehicle too, lol….
Lana, I’m picturing the scene! 😀😀I have a feeling you have lots of these ‘wild’ stories to tell! Yeah, Van Halen is a heck of a way to start the morning…now wide awake and had to watch my favourite of Jump as well. Oh, those outfits!!!
You can’t go wrong with Van Halen, ha ha! And of course you can’t just watch one video either :D. This is a funny story, I stole this from my spouse as his life was more exciting than mine. I just usually use 1st person to write, I probably need to branch out more. Glad you liked it, Annika. May the rest of your week be a rockin’ success!
Reblogged this on John Cowgill's Literature Site.
Thanks John!
You are very welcome.
P.S. Love the new picture.
Thanks John 😀
You are very graciously welcome.😀😀
You had me at “like a ghostly James Dean legend” 😉
Those boys, lol 😀
You captured a slice of teenage life that I can relate to, Lana. Not the exact experience, but that wild rush of freedom that somehow we survived – slightly bent but with no harm done. Wonderful poem.
Thanks Diana. You know, teenagers are truly fortunate. The boy who fell out of that truck had so many close calls, but I’m happy to say he’s alive and well and coasting through his fifties 😀
I wish we didn’t have to grow up, but I guess it’s better than the alternative. 🙂
Yep, no argument here 😀
Another great “story poem.” Oh, the foreshadowing. I read this part knowing things were headed nowhere good:
He spies me
showing off in a massive spin-twirl
dust clouds in the night
thick and swirling
I think it’s funny you can still see the spot where it bent the stop sign, like a little reminder of how luck you both were. 🙂
Luck was indeed there, Joan. I’ll tell you, it’s a wonder that guy survived at all through high school. He made it, and is happily coasting through his fifties, ha ha. Thank you 😀
From a parent’s POV, this story is a nightmare! I suspect the kids enjoyed telling — and retelling — it, though!
It surely is a nightmare. These two boys had a long and funny history between them, but they both made it to middle age, ha ha.
Loved this Lana. A lovely blend of poetry in a short story. 🙂
Thanks so much, Debby!
🙂