dawn to dusk

you remember
being curled
like sea horses
in the trunk
of a large
boat like buick
doing eighty
on the  beltway
at fifteen
with three other
guys, sneaking
into the drive-in
to save three
bucks. there was
a case of beer
and a bucket
of chicken
that filled the cold
air in the front
seat with the driver.
the insanity
and luck
of not dying at
that age
does not escape
you, ever.