The Boys in the Back Seat

Poppa peeled a Marlboro,
As we laughed in his backseat,
That shiny sprinting muscled car,
When Daddy punched the gas again,

Jimmy smiled and blew us smoke rings,
As we slid from side to side,
Giggling like little lunatics,
His bobbleheads in the back,

Never did we worry,
Bout them cops catchin Pops,
While blowing smoke ring excellence,
For the Boys in the Back Seat

I remember glowing rings of light,
As they floated dark to day,
Dissipating memories,
Fading white to gray,

I laughed at my father’s magic trick,
Knowing even then,
Those smoke rings and memories,
We’d never hold again,

We might find a quiet place,
In some forgotten forest lane,
And rest our throbbing minds,
with naps and nicotine,

And press our glowing fading thoughts,
Against some twisted tree,
Counting rings of heartwood,
Like circling memories,

But never would we find again,
Those growling red dirt streets,
Just the cracked glass and smuggled lives,
Of boys in back seats.

I remember glowing rings of light,
As they floated dark to day,
Dissipating memories,
Fading white to gray,

I laughed at my father’s magic trick,
Knowing even then,
Those smoke rings and memories,
We’d never hold again.