The child counts cars with hash marks
Make and manufacturer recognized
From advertisements, pages ripped
From sports magazines of his father.
The Ford Mustang was a first favorite
Before poor design choices threw out
Strength in exchange for Four Eyes.
Two gens later the muscles are back.
Now cars and vanity and statements
All mash up together in a price tag
Out of reach of the man’s desire.
The price of gas, alone, too much.
A bike seems much more practical
To and from with saddle bags full
Fresh produce, cold dairy, sweets
The slight oxygen burn of legs.
The child counts cars again, always
Going along for the ride, never driving.
By now, hash marks have cut through
His paper marking up the leather seats.