Lowrider

they come from
a deep place
where harmonies
fill the lungs and
exhume what is
supposedly dead

and what’s that
shimmer seen by
the not-so-naked,
decked out
eye?

visible to
cargo ships
space crafts
tractor trailers
semi’s and tour
buses just passing
through

if they only
knew

riding low
in the highness
of high and high
in the lowness
of low

cruising in candy
colors signaling the
embers that chart our
course and sparkle like
the most intricate mathmatical
equation fit to the occasion and
always broken down to its
simplest terms

well made
with seats that
conform to every dimple,
curvature and indentation
in the fossilized cushioned
immortality that is you

and the speakers
speak, saying what we could
say, should say, would
say

An extension of
home

An extension of
you

(No air freshener necessary)

where the one you
love sits close and
sticks to the ribs
like rice and beans

Rolling up on us
nice and slow like
an old 45 on a turntable
that gave us the courage
to turn the tables on anything
and everything meant to hold
us back

Impalas
T-Birds
Monte Carlo’s
Buicks
Pontiacs

Gliding like a
line of aircraft
carriers

carrying not
air but our

roars
wails
cries
embraces
fears
moans
sighs
gritos
poetry
and
songs

Carrying it all
like our mothers
when they carried us

before showing
us off to the
world

with
pride

(c) 2016 Tony Robles

 

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