THugGiSH AboUt That FuCKerY

It’s called enthusiasm, yo!
I can break things in half with my mind
There are no boundaries to this madness
When winter comes it freezes my enemies
I defrost them with a blowtorch of love
Please feel free to have some peeps at my ride
I built it in my imagination just for you
It has very special rims
When they spin, they cure world hunger
I’m telling you, this is some car!
Watch out! The check engine light can blind the impure
It has more hydroelectrics than the Bonneville Dam
It bounces you like a mama with unceasing
Aspirations that cannot be denied
Do NOT touch the eject button
Unless you wanna fly!

(The title comes from the windshield of a car that I used to walk by in my neighborhood. It was baby blue and lowered and for drifting and just so beautiful and stupid and bold and impractical—and it got me to thinking about what maybe the coolest car ever would be within the realm of the aesthetic of Thuggish About That Fuckery, and who might drive that car, and what they would have to say, and then I wrote this poem.)