Teenagers In Cars

As a teenager,

In a car on our way to a dance,
I made a tasteless comment–
just trying to be funny–
and simultaneously offended
two new friends,
fellow dance-goers–
one a black girl, the other a Jew.

A year later,
(still a teenager)

stoned and driving too fast
through a construction zone
while hanging out
the passenger-side window,
I tried grabbing
an orange blinking road-marker.
I screamed from the impact
of that orange plastic pillar
as it slammed against the car door.
It nearly broke my arm.

Even now the blood
rushes like lava to my face
as I hesitantly recall
these two embarrassing events.
The shame of the lessons
is bitter and permanent–
but my ignorance
was a beautiful thing, too;
an emotional cocktail
hard to put into words . . .

perhaps it's not sane practice
trying to combine
alien elements
(like teenagers and cars)
and attempting to explain the product.   


"Teenagers In Cars" Copyright © 2014 by D. Wickliff