The Red Honda

I never paddled across Higuera in that red Honda alone
That off-red Edsel, sans radio, sans air conditioning
But there were times when I’d envision myself in that skimpily-painted vehicle
Though I’d constantly be growing dissatisfied with the lazy windshield wipers
Who often napped while making lousy wages biting off North County hail
And I’d be dragging the Honda into Monterey Street repair shops
After each and every Hummer, Cadillac, or Prius rider threatened to shoot my car
My father decided to donate the Edsel after 21 years
Having outlived enemy automakers, we jumped on the bandwagon
But our friends are bound for glory on that newly guava wagon.


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