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Foggy Place of Roaring - by Roberto Warren
I've
always been here
in my dreams
at this foggy place of roaring...
Can you make out the name? The Number? Hey, buddy,
look in your mirror and you might see a Cobra howling at
you!
Lying face-down on the pit straight, I think the Commendatore
stood there, or maybe it was here...
If I stand there, its about as close as I'll get to catching
a Red-Head.
Donohue,
Gurney, Ginther, Hill, Hulme, McLaren, Andretti.
THE MIGHTY FORD GT-40
Marks Two and Four,
on the cracked greased concrete salt-flat backstraight where
never lark,
but maybe B-17 flew slower.
Hey,
you guys! All 427 of you! No fair!
If I put out my hand
could I touch the face
of Carroll Shelby?
I saw
them all in the fog..This is the Wide World of Sports, baby!
Jim McKay and Chris Eckonomacki!
Everybody's brush-cut, the gas is Pure,
and Super Shell is twenty five cents a gallon!
The Chapparal Flippers are the wave of the future, you say?
They're causing a real flap!
Groovy, its 1965, can you say Four-Hundred-Horsepower Ferrari?
TV is black and white and I am,
just Black in Detroit Fourteen 48202
Now I'm 45, after 31 years, I finally made it (to Sebring)
and nodody is here, but that's o.k., because I've always
been here in my dreams.
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