My best friend has been driving for a couple years now.
She told me often of how her father forced her on the road
Screaming, shouting, fuming hot air in her face until her eyes watered
And that morning she snips my budding contempt
For the new car which does not react fast enough.
Mama's baby girl, born with a silver spoon in her mouth, spoiled rotten
Show some gratitude!
We go in on Black Friday and she buys twice as much as I do.
It is outrageously hot for November.
The parking lot is packed to the gills.
I sweat and shiver and shake, as if in a fever
While the cars speed along a road wide as the Nile.
I have never driven this far from home before.
When the policeman takes my license, she looks over his shoulder
Remarking that I have only been driving for three months
And I've already wrecked my brand new car
That does not react fast enough.
YOU ARE READING
Poems Don't Have to Rhyme
PoetryPoetry collection. Some of it is pretty good, most of it is pretty bad.
