[Fox Body]

While Traveling To Places of Peace

As a fresh, cool breeze on a cool spring day,
Caresses my skin as I drive down the way,
While traveling to places of peace that I go,
Considering all of the fullness I know,

As ears kiss the hum of the mill and the Flows,
A sound indescribable, yes, I should know,
Whilst smelling the fumes of the oversized Holley,
I witness what seems a fool and his folly.

This thing, not domestic, "a Honda?" I think,
It's orange, with sparkles, it's purple and pink,
With stickers and fog lights excessively strewn,
It wasn't from Earth, perhaps from the moon.

On circles of gold, silver, and white,
With spokes spinning wildly with all of their might,
Wrapped in rubber too small for the circular lights,
Which stuck out too far from the vehicle's sides.

The cowl reached the heavens, the tint spoke of hell,
Ground effects-ladened. The car? Couldn't tell.
The rear brought back memories, pull-ups on limbs,
Hey, I could really use this guy's jungle gym.

And what broke the silence as if fencing with bees?
This hideous thing started throwing revs at me.
The audacity clenched my heart with a twist,
Respect must be taught to this little piss....


Slowing down to 35,
Looking over into its eyes,
Giving the nod, feeling the rise,
Adrenaline pumps, predicting demise.

Allowing the jump, delaying the kill,
Ready to smash, at my own will,
Bumper to back, jets start to fill,
Slamming the pedal, reving the mill.

Explosions of power,
The thunder gets louder,
The speed kills the doubter,
As rice I devour.

Nah, there's no looking back for me,
For rice I cannot see
As I look through the trees
As the birds softly tweet
Through the crisp, spring breeze,
Whilst the hum of the mill,
Gives me joy and the thrill
Causes knees to be weak.

While traveling to places of peace that I go,
And the thoughts of the days lift the pains that I know,
Then I know them no more,
For they all slip away......


------ Fox Body, 2001