Mary, Jane and Sue, my memories of them
from the fall of '44 have faded with time.
Were they blond or brunette,
tall or short?
Nor do I remember the studies
of my Junior year.
But, I remember that '34 Pontiac
with the 8 in line engine
I named Black Bart.
Oh,yes! I remember that vain beauty
and it was love at first sight.
It was black and shiny with red trim
and the proud bust of old Pontiac himself
on the radiator cap
cutting wind and leading the way
to new adventures.
With four doors and broad running boards
it was the perfect chariot
for a young Great Gatsby wanna be.
Sixteen inch wheels with silver spokes
and balloon tires
gave the proper rakish look.
Bought with $100.00 earned
and saved from many days
at .30 an hour greasing cars
it was instant
heraldry for my gang which grew the day
I brought it home.
Tires were bald and filled with boot patches
to hold in the inner tube.
The gas ration lasted about three blocks with
that powerful engine.
Naphtha and Kerosine mixed with gasoline
made it go and the black smoke was
added class.
Saturday mornings were dedicated
to tearing down the engine
and scraping off the carbon,
ashes from the foul fuel.
You could spot Black Bart
going up Colorado Avenue
with a load in the car and several
on each running board.
That didn't bother Officer Carroll
but when I decided to drive on the
center strip he lost his patience.
He did the worst he could to me by
telling my Pappy.
Summer and Fall were filled with Black Bart.
I would own it still if I hadn't
shared with Jo his father's Christmas rum
and driven to basketball practice.
Such a short affair, but I remember Black Bart.