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Galaxie 500

Galaxie 500 Teenage boys pile into the rusted and dented maroon sedan from another time. The 292 with mechanical lifters comes to life with the rasp of a muffler whose days are more than numbered. Sounds of freedom and rebellion bellow from a stolen 8 Track. Time to escape the mundane… Time to push the limits of consciousness and sanity. As we drift the airborne car comes down with a crash — steering hard avoids a tree. The smell weed, beer, burnt oil and rubber fill the air. Once again we have landed and are back to the past.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 11/8/2012 9:23:00 AM
an excellent poem, William, although the end seems to be just that!!!!!!!!
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Date: 11/6/2012 8:28:00 AM
A great write and very enjoyable read William. Love, Carol
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Book: Shattered Sighs