You wonder
as you observe
The Platinum
Parade
about who
owns those
vehicles, the
shiny fine
old Delahaye
smooth and sleek
as the guests
peek behind
the curtains
of the folks
who live in
this famous
place, where
the race to
be rich is
hardly evident,
not necessary
nor contrary
we have our
own entertainment
perhaps a Ferrari
or two
included in the
zoo, along with
a fine Dusenberg
several wild boar
heads and some
lynx and tiger skins,
do you imagine
that we are eating
the brains of young
calves, and drinking
the water of the kings
while we watch
the springs of a
Testarossa bounce
the pot holes
of great golf
courses, where
are the horses,
but secretly
(and if you
look quickly)
there will be
a slip of a face,
over the fence,
gardening gloves
raucus tunes
local goons
who happen to
have landed
in the realm
of dreams,
suddenly
converged upon
by ladies in
long white gowns
and wallets full
of cash,
we know it
won’t last,
and soon the
fog will envelope
us for another
year,
smiling that
others might
envy the
Forest, the best
part of this
place is the
Wild Road
on a Monday
afternoon,
naked of
any four
wheeled vehicles
and maybe one
or two falcons,
home…

 

©J.W.WINSLOW 9/1/12