Heavy Metal

Richard Hartwell

Two platinum blondes in a silver Mercedes driving toward Las Vegas,
Their souls opaqued to the world behind oversized, darkened glasses.
Like bills, their lives are in arrears, a hundred miles ago and worlds away.
Behind them now, Glad-wrapped in the Sun, are yesterday’s leftovers,
Left out too long, ignored too long, gone too long, or just “So long!”

Now, together, their easy rhythm catches my eyes and heart,
A shock wave of Metallica blaring to the sides catches my ears.
I can almost smell the Poison and taste the salted tears, as smoothly,
Steadily overhead on the freeway they bomb on by, oblivious to my needs.
I’m lost again. Where was I now?

Oh yeah, a box of Tampax at the 7-Eleven.

P.S. –
I’m lost again. Where was I now? Oh yeah, a box of Pampers at the 7-Eleven.

P.P.S. -
I’m lost again. Where was I now? Oh yeah, a six-pack of beer at the 7-Eleven.

Like life, you always have a choice at the 7-Eleven.