Archive
07/12/10 - (3)
America's Love Affair
Love is nothing if not an elusive mirage In a sea-to-shiny-sea of auto-show and -dealer floors In a coast-to-coast desert of salvage yards In an ethereal, metaphysically surreal, numinous lunar landscape Populated with Corvette and Model T moon rovers.
Love is nothing if not "She being Brand / -new" — Chrysler's pre-WWII Fluid Drive transmission, That brilliant technological advancement Over the standard three-gear steering-column stick shift, Which revolutionized the way America would drive into its sunset.
Tonight, I cast back to those giddy Dinah Shore–sung jingles That encouraged us to "see the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet," Way back at the invisible dawn of America's demise, And I cry, without exactly knowing why or how An entire society could die in such a speedy estimated time of arrival.
I have a creeping suspicion that when I awaken, one day soon, Nothing we know of Happy Motoring will be the same, That all of us will be driving our families, From soup kitchen to bread line to funeral home to cemetery, In Big Wheels pulling Radio Flyers pulling skateboards.
07/12/10 - (3)
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