by S.E. Johnson
All turquoise blue with a torpedo nose
The rakish Studebaker sped,
As visions of nuclear war and commies
Hung over our head,
The back seat embraced us
As down the turnpike it purred,
We passed the traffic in our iron sled,
and we were well secured.
Through the windows we watched the sky
Imagining ourselves as space rangers,
Somewhere we fell off in sleep and dreams
Zoom went a Kaiser driven by alien strangers.
In our uneasy fifties science fiction sleep.
Cyclop headlamps glowed above our heads;
Down the dusty dirty country road
We would wake to leave the iron sleds.
Over the miracle pavement we flew,
Back in time to where our grand folks are;
In that unforgettable torpedo,
That turquoise blue Studebaker car.