Words From The Road Poem by Sam Boehms

My foot sank down on that pedal like a misplaced step into quicksand. The engine reared up fighting to escape the low gear holding it back. It whined and yelped in the chasis like a pack of dogs starving for the hunt; letting out fiendish yelps as they strain at the leashes holding them back. The smell of their prey already in their mouths teasing at that one carnal thing in every living creature's brain that makes the endorphines pump like a steam train. And then that gear switches and those dogs are loosed and the sound turns into a low primal, orgasmic roar. The pack takes off after their prey to do what they were born to do and the car picks up speed and I pass all the other honda civic and toyota camry white blood cells on my westbound journey through the arteries of the continent. I criss-cross my way through the clots of cars and come out the other side with the open road begging to carry forth my rubber. My speedometer hits 80, now 90, now 100... At nights i dream of a bright silver moon that lights up a smooth and open road before me. I dream of high-speed chases in the eastbound lane to keep those pesky cops from breaking my stride.