Red Chevrolet

We had an old truck, a red Chevrolet,

  I remember it well to this very day.

A Stovebolt Six and a four on the floor,

  That leaky old muffler could sure make it roar.

Both of my brothers had driven that truck,

  And to drive it someday might be my luck.

I thought I was bold at eleven years old.

  Though if truth be told I fit not the mold.

We were at a ranch and Dad was bored,

  For Malta town we headed toward. 

Stopped at a bar where cowboys hung out,

  Buy them a drink and stories they’ll spout.

They’ll spin some tales ‘bout the broncs they all rode.

  The bull that they sling would make quite a load.

I sat in a corner sippin’ on coke,

  While those old cowboys told joke after joke.

After some time, they were pretty well lit,

  Drunker than seven barrels of owl spit.

It was finally time for us to leave,

  I grabbed the old man by the shirtsleeve.

Then I ushered him out to that old truck

  Parked out there in the mud and the muck.

The starter it groaned as it fired up,

  We’d make it on home if dad sobered up.

We wobbled and weaved and left out of town,

  Then dad pulled over and shut her on down.

“There’s just one way to keep us alive,

  Today is the day I’ll teach you to drive.”

I took my place behind that big wheel,

  Drivin’ this truck was not a big deal.

I sat in the seat and put the clutch down,

  And put it in gear and looked all around.

We’re off with a lurch, like sinners in church,

  I wear a big smirch from my lofty perch.

As I shifted on up, the gears they did grind,

  That worn out engine was startin’ to whine.

I kept all four tires upon the blacktop,

  Had her a-goin’ but I couldn’t stop.

Soon it was clear I was doin’ quite well,

  I wasn’t ready when it all went to hell.

When we came upon the Godfrey turnoff,

  I knew it was here we had to get off.

I spun the wheel like it was no big deal,

  Hit the bar ditch where the terror got real.

It wasn’t that long ‘til we were airborne,

  Three barb wire strands the grille did adorn.

Dad hit the windshield, passenger side,

  This might not have been his favorite ride.

I rolled to a stop in Godfrey’s pasture,

  I’d gotten us there, that was for sure.

Somehow, I knew there’d be hell to pay,

  For what I had done to dad’s Chevrolet.

I’d bent the axle and tore up the fence,

  But managed to land without any dents.

That broken windshield never got fixed,

  My drivin’ career was totally nixed.

That is my story, it’s sad but it’s true,

  I’d wreck a few more before I was through!

LDT March 12, ‘25

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