I’d named her Silver.
Tricked-out.
Souped-up.
Bitchin’ cha-cha, yo?
Shoulda seen our last race:
Rear tires burnin’ rubber—
(I can still smell it.)
Screechin’ like unholy hell
ol’ Nurse Nasty was.
Said eight mile an’ hour
too damn fast
for a wheelchair.



Tell it like it is