Anais Vionet Poet Rhyme

Lets Hit It

I miss the open highway
I’m besotted with quick getaways.
What other sensation can compare
to pulling G’s with wind-whipped hair?

When my foots on the throttle,
I feel unstoppable.
Faster, faster, no faster,
that’s the rush I’m after.

Where are we going?
There’s just no knowing,
but no matter where we roam,
the GPS will get us home.

One thing was guaranteed,
the speed limit would be exceeded.
I adored the wide open straightaways
and the feeling of a racing-day at Marseilles.

I remember in the Appalachian mountains
the plunging, snake-like, winding canyons
as the digital dashboard display passed ninety
how my eschort, Charles, would glare at me.

I’d let off - a little - and laugh, I mean,
isn’t freedom the American dream?
To hear the growl of a V8 motor,
as it turns rural-roads into roller coasters.

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David Kavanagh February 11, 2023 at 12:48 PM Life on the edge Anais, exhilarating and dangerous, it’s almost a right of passage, I’d tell you to not go over 88mph, universal time travel speed, but I know you won’t listen, just like when a future me came back and told me the same thing, I said all must be ok if I’m still alive in the future, and floored it, Take it easy! cheers David