she’s got a lead foot
with a ten thousand dollar smile
it’s hard to see the permanent wire
while she’s doing one hundred and sixty miles
glove box full of love
mixed with driving violations
she’s got it where it really counts
used rubbers on her regulations
the back seat is a residence
when it’s not being a landfill
old cigarette cartons and coffee cups
all shift around going downhill
her t-shirts line the trunk
with faded memories and old stains
lackluster in appearance
the odour is all that remains
some nights she gets lucky
the green lights on her side
with someone new beside her
trading pinks for a new ride
sucked into her presence
of her slick black sixty nine GTO
if the head lights don’t blind you
then you should go, go, go