free love

we almost made
it to California. Perry, Jim,
me.

we had a connection in Huntington Beach.
a cousin
of a girl
I used to see.

we packed our bags.
stuffed money into our jeans.

gassed up
and away we went.

we made it to the exit heading west
on 66

when the car broke down.
a 57 chevy, baby blue, with
baby moon rims.

it died on us
and so did some fantasy,
some idealized

dream.of
surf, sand, music, free love.

the sea.