-the mystery ride-

Let's hit the road.

To leave by car

We must enter the car.

Two doors and the front seats

Tilt forward to assist easy access
From the outside to the backseat.

Sometimes on the driver's side

The tilting seat will cause the horn to blow.

One slip-up could tipoff the cops.

Four doors and it’s every man

For himself.

Let's live the two-door life.

A life of two doors.

We're on our way.

Four doors and from
The open back window

The flat tongue of the dog 

Flaps through the air in its sparks of spit

Splattering the trunk;

The simple vacation of its summer days.

Two doors and in the evening
The Moon is all it could be.

She dials-in a smokey Platters tune,

they asked me how I knew
my true love was through

Climbing over to the backseat bench

She knows how it's done,—

Her petticoats whistle 

Across the naugehyde under
The headliner's yellowing domelight.

She bounces on purpose twice or more

Closer to the Galaxy's

Cockeyed fins in the only

Way to make them functional.

I of course replied,
when the lovely flame dies,
smoke gets in your eyes.

To leave by car

We'd enter the car.

The mystery ride.

A two-door life.

A life of two doors.

We'd hit the road, pair by pair

To the place where it stopped;

when the deep purple falls
over sleepy garden walls
and the stars begin to twinkle in the sky
for as long as my heart will be
sweet love will always be
here in the deep purple dreams

And moonlight beamed.

              

                          Quequechan