country roads and Cadillacs
seventies rock rebellion
corn fields stretching for miles like that ocean
far away in a dream
these were the day hours, breathing hours before night
when passing moments felt young
a time to let our hair down
a time to live or die having fun
to and from Chicago, dark highways
In a a 72’ gremlin back and forth
anticipating the drive all week
never seeing what was right in front of me-
there at Clark’s, across from Northwestern
bye and bye the old Wrigley bubble gum house
west wing bed, bath, staircase, castle
it could wait till Monday, after all I didn’t want that
yellow line takes me back home to the land of Lincoln
I had a small white farmhouse
a scary couple room house with a pool
full of frogs, I listened to them
all the time, I waited, watched, then we went
van and motorcycles rides, chased by cops
I picked up, I dropped off, tucked away in plain sight
it was back to planning, hiding, and moving on
just four hours until Lake Shore Drive lite up with the business rush
until I put on my apron, smile, and deliver pancakes
until I rushed between mid day gigs
a new world passed in a few short years
when eyes are loyal to young love and old habits
when routines, the shoulds, the rules, and what ifs, are won over by cars, roads, and some crazy sense of freedom
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