The 80’s Newly Licensed

We’d drive all day in Dad’s Dodge Shadow,

dodging shadows that the road spat forth at dusk;

Potholes planted like inverted seas,

immense enough for whales to breach.

And swerving, sometimes, away from cats,

Who would pick across the pavement

High-shouldered, through the papercraft

of newly realized Autumn leaves,

To cast their neon gaze, almost grinning

In the light of our perpetual high-beams.

And Duran Duran, somewhere in the storm of static,

would bemoan the hunger of wolves,

as the Doritos that had furred our fingers

Left shallow molds of our identities 

Upon the stubborn window-crank handles.

And

When the moon had well set-up

and your hair would gain its tail,

we’d be coasting, perfect 

through the shadows of oval signs

where robots with tea-pot hands

would be filling cars with freedom

To fuel memories such as these.