’75 Bronco

I had just finished piercing the snow with a warm stream of piss.
when she arrived in her death trap.

Heat blasting
full throttle
from the dash,
of her
’75 Ford Bronco,
she rescued me.

In possession of nothing more than ten bucks fifty , and a couple of beers,
I was the wealthiest man alive.


1 Comment

Filed under History, Outlaw poetry, poetry

One response to “’75 Bronco

  1. Writing Jobs

    Great poem today. Thanks so much for sharing. I enjoy reading your blog very much!

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