(Leave your story in the comments below.)
Little engine that could.
The engine block cracked spectacularly.
First wheels. First backseat. First grounding.
My Ford Pinto’s engine finally cracked.
She was a deer hunter, unfortunately.
’62 Nova gave me adolescent freedom
Childhood in the rear view mirror.
Fifty-five vanilla Plymouth, $150 cold cash.
What did I just run over?
Bench seats for quality makeout sessions
Dark blue death trap.
Took me more places than imagined
That Pontiac Phoenix, aptly named, lifted me.
Drive-in movies in backseat under blanket.
Parents drove it. Parents totaled it.
Journey, turned up, on cassette desk.
I learned what not to do.
Shit brown was an apt descriptor
An immovable telephone pole ended it.
A Pymouth with gigantic tail fins
Big square Volkswagen I called “Tank”.
I never found that sour milk.
Purple Neon, surprise from dad.
Twas the color of babyshit green
Quintessential hippie bus, busted flat.
Ugly green Chev. I loved it
Got stoned. Drove fast. Died happy.
Maroon, sleek, classy…well, to me.
When it rained, feet got wet.
Bad brakes. Young driver. Damaged wall.
Banana yellow Toyota. First accident
Puke green, burned gas and rubber.
Rust-Oleum blue encased VW Party Bus
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