I was born in 1988,
the same year you
folded and were bought out
by people who think
that left-handed lug nuts
are a pretty neat
idea.
Twenty six years
later
evidence you existed
is hard to come by-
the truck my father
traded for $800 and a rifle
is long gone by now,
in the care of someone
I'll never meet
and all I'm left
with are stories told
by old folks who can
still remember
Going off the road
in a broken down Gremlin
bought from some
bloke for two hundred bucks,
or getting a crate
full of car, some assembly required,
back when “Jeep”
really meant something.
I'm nostalgic for a
time I have no right to be,
an era I never
experienced, not really,
besides fading
memories of an old Commanche pickup,
and seeing a yellow
Pacer parked outside a barn
halfway to nowhere.
And I would have
bought it if I'd had the cash
just to experience
it,
just to have it,
even though I know
it would be a terrible idea.
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| (Image courtesy of Wikipedia) |
