Gary Edward Geraci

Muscle Cars

 

Mild malaise, mixed malady: a

Rumbling by my Lady’s statue;

Muscle cars owned by middle aged

Men, men in midlife crisis, keep

 

Mufflers that rumble and fright my

Queen grottoed in the front shrubs, short

Sheared and cave shaped for Her Glory.

Noisy machines, especially

 

At night, cruise by and curse the door

Frame, it shakes; a stentorian

Pass of exhaust gas masks the true

Morass of men now half-empty.

 

Yet I might just buy one too and

To Holy Hour I’d drive it, like

Bikers for Christ, in high style:

Mid-fifties, eight stacked, the path straight!

 

Gary Edward Geraci