Cars cruising, taking us back
as Elvis croons
on the radio
Chrome shining,
fins all the rage
and the rat rods
give flat black
a new place
in society
Muscle cars
rumbling
down the beach
road as the
smell of the sea
hits my nose
Burning rubber,
tires squealing
there goes another
‘57
I’ll sleep like a babe
tonight, with visions
of the classics
in my dreams
Lynn West
© 2014
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