Of course, you are so young and stupid you imagine
yourself more confident than the guy at the crossroads,
and you are speeding down a freeway near the border
with 3 friends in a purple Grand Marquis with
hair metal guitar riffs blasting out the windows.
Sure, you daydream that you are on the shore at the sea of joy
as you release the bong’s carburetor and inhale
a hit beyond Spicoli’s imagination or any Cheech
and Chong Mary Jane movie script.
Do you mind the empty spaces;
the empty silences with friends?
And well, all right. The entire car and
your friends are transforming into that
80’s cliché mota smoke infused car scene.
Gray hairs, high blood pressure medicine,
that receding hair line and expanding pansa
are nowhere on your list of youthful reckonings.
You all know the best way home after it gets dark
and nothing is as pure as this humming vibe ride
down this freeway on a spring afternoon.
Then the friend driving. The smart one who is studying
to be a doctor asks, no he demands in his future
doctor voice that one of you take the wheel
for just a moment and the other friend
in the back seat rises and reaches over
the driver’s seat and takes control.
(You must do what you like). It all looked
so natural like they had done this before.
A dance move that made everyone in the club look
over and smile. The driver returns with
a new sense of pleasure and says thank you.
ABOUT:
Christopher Rubio-Goldsmith grew up in Tucson, Arizona and taught English at Tucson High School for 28 years. Much of his work explores growing up near the border, being raised in biracial/bilingual familia and teaching in a large urban school. A two-time Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee. Some of his writings have been published in, The Twin Bill, The San Pedro Review, Clockhouse and other places too. His wife Kelly helps edit the work, sometimes. The two cats sleep a lot. Find him on Facebook at: @chris.goldsmith.16
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Seb Tender -- Driver Seat
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