The Boat He Drove Down Dexter Avenue

Maybe this isnt a poem, maybe it is:

 

He drove a pale blue green car

the color of the water off the beach Destin Florida

with fins that came up to my shoulder.

soft white leather seats

and a soft white top.

pushbutton starter, no keys

and a chest crushing three foot skinny rimmed steering wheel

I wanted to be him

of course I wasn’t

and never will be

I’m the guy in the little green Fiat scrunched over.

Actually I love the little green Fiat. I don’t think I’d like to drive

a big boat like that.

I just wanted to be the guy

who wanted to drive

a boat like that.

they don’t make them anymore. they do make cars without keys without metal keys,

but now it’s all electronic

high security

no beauty

no heart

no class

high price higher “quality”

no soul.

“Boy, if you’re going to do a crime don’t do her a scrawny crime make it big, make it showy!

How do you think I got this boat?”