Saturday, September 26, 2015


'Never buy a British sports car in racing green',
that's what they used to say back in the day when
I'd consider such : never knew why. It was, after all, 
their color, 'British' racing green  -  it wasn't from
the Baltics or something. Like nice light on a pure
Spring day, it was just bright  -  the way the trees sing,
the clouds hover. Maybe it had something to do with
death itself  -  all those racing crashes and men who
died. Yet, they were racing, after all. No one said.
Now, it's so different; the only thing available is
fifty years old and that green's now so patterned and
faded that there's no danger of anything at all.
The only thing 'British' is the patchwork fog it's
enveloped in. How strange and curious. Big
numbers, and a line, on a long, low bonnet.

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