Racing down the freeway in a classic Chevy Impala, proud to be the owner at the wheel.
Girls looking sideways at the beauty of the car, all wanting to get a ride, none daring to ask.
Wanting to be asked by the gentle owner sitting there, cruising down Central with pride seated next to him, waiting to be expressed in verbal praise.
Showing off a little more, getting pulled over by a cop.
" Pride" is sitting next to the driver (who is also the Impala owner) ? Charlie Pride? Yeah, some cops WILL do that: her/his job. Or maybe she/he just wants to talk Chevies. (not C. Chase!) bri ;)
What a pleasure drive with pride and comfort and with a feeling to be on the top of earth! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
i guess the gentile owner must have taken his eyes off the road too long; too much girl-watching. i like the last line especially. thanks for sharing. :) bri
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They don't make them like that anymore! Five or six people could fit in the backseat alone, not to mention the trunk! I miss the days when you could sit on a car without denting it.