E.J. Hudak (Poems 16-18)

Wafting Resting quietly in bed at sunrise Letting growing rods of sun Burn away the morning fog from my mind Is wafting Under Spring trees at eighty degrees Traveling the full distance From now to eternity Unfettered by reality and rigid logic Is wafting Listening to the world breathe Twilight sighs of relief As time absconds with precious gems Of living Is wafting Wrapped in darkness counting stars Then going there Unconcerned about returning Gazing finally on a world That will never ever sting you Is wafting *** Car In a long sluggish parade trapped On the George Washington Bridge Steel humans in a breadline Waiting food from the Salvation Army Every personality drowned in a river of reflection. As apple-taffy Austin With a nervous sweaty wheeze purchased for speed But doomed To frustration & fickle whores constantly rapping your gearbox. One white station wagon Filled with everyone else’s children & shopping bags overflowing green celery stalks, corn flakes chocolate sandwich cookies hair rollers and — The proverbial dented fender. The long black limousine Sleek & mysterious with curtains drawn to the world and hiding A soul That ‘made it’ but lost its owner To the Dreyfus Lion which devoured His heart A smart red convertible going anywhere for fun Skiing in Vermont, bikinis in Miami clubbing in Vegas Destined to be second to a company sedan, then sold When the baby arrives. A humble olive-green American With standard shift & gray seats That never made it with the girls. The precision crafted old Chevy molded by the artist’s hands At the gas station after dark: C-stock, unbeaten trophies Cam & chromed jewelry from Tiffany’s speed shop Fumes arouse the reverie as the march begins anew, coughing & faltering All with their lights on, following the hearse. *** Food For Thought T. John Sutor Was devoured by a computer At the young and tender age of 23. Seems he loved the constant hum That made the monster run So he poked his head inside to have a see. Well to T. John’s vast surprise That bastard came alive And hungry for the taste of human flesh. By bedazzling Johnny’s eye Old M-12 grabbed his tie And in seconds had his flowered shirt and vest. Before the dude could speak Hummer yanked him off his feet And swallowed Johnny whole without a chirp. Dropping not a single crumb M-12 whined his hoppy hum Spitting buckles, buttons, zippers, with a burp. So a note to all you freaks Who think Old Hummer merely beeps He’s got the sharpest, fastest, reflex in the West. If you have to be a dude You’d better handle M-12 nude ‘cause when it comes to snatching bodies, he’s the best.’ E.J. Hudak - ca. 1969