hundreds of horses of happiness

was driving home from the gym today evening when i saw my old supra go past me in the opposite direction. it's the first time i've seen it since i sold it. did a quick u-turn and followed it. it always looks beautiful at night. the sparkling silver paint. the four red rear lights. the white headlights. the fat tyres and the silver alloys. the sound of the exhaust - o how i miss that deep rumble. i turned my music off and just listened to the sound of its exhaust, trying to keep up as it sped round corners. i followed it for miles. through town, onto the western motorway, and all the way to point chev. i kept wishing it was me in it again. like old times. with the music playing loud and life's sunshine shining around me. i wish i was laughing and happy as i accelerated away with her as i used to. i wish it was me in the cockpit, in her bucket seat, with my love next to me. laughing as we sped home on the motorway with our dvds, popcorn, diet coke and olives. i drove behind her, not caring where i was going. and i realised i was watching and dreaming about a past that will never be again. i finally stopped alongside the supra at a set of traffic lights.

nice car, dude!
uh, thanks.
don't you remember me? i'm the guy who sold you the car!
oh shit! yes! i thought you were in london dude?
i was, and then i came back.

the lights spilled into green.

speed away for me, will ya?
sure thing, man. see ya later!

and he did step on it. and i just watched as the tyres screeched and the exhaust roared and my supra sped away from me in an instant, carrying all the dreams and memories it shared with me with it, away. away.

muddied flowers

we walk through
this beautiful flower
garden and our mud
splashes ugly brown
on the colour but
we don't notice
as we stumble along
we pick this one and
that one the exquisite
orchid the brilliant rose
an elegant lilly
to keep as ours
but they will
die
in our hand
and in our wake
we leave only
muddied flowers.