Thursday, April 26, 2007

Poem #116 of 365

The country kids have no
limits when they get
behind the wheel. They
are not bound to squares
on a city Mapsco page.

When a country kid is sixteen
with a license, it's like a racehorse
has run off from the race
and the tourney prize. All that
matters is the spree.

A rural road, whether Texas red dirt or
halved with yellow lines, is a lengthy
bullsnake daring kids to cruise
all crazy, copulate in May.

I've met those country kids, the
ones who school in Kingsville,
live in Ricardo, shop in Corpus.
They have cat eyes at night,
as they sneak through darkness
to wet county pleasures and
the allure of acceleration.

No city limits can restrict,
no high gas prices
deter them from their teen
ambition to get some
gritty mileage on their souls.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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