Poetry Thread, Part Deux

[beckstra]

Eighty On The Interstate

sea foam green plastic dragon
melts on my dashboard
the sun casting shadows from him
I press my flip-flop harder on the gas
bounce with the interstate
crickets sound from my trunk
or are those the shocks?
sing sweet FM nightingale
giggle with the fizzle in my throat
the good gracious water bottle
rests against the passenger seat
I push my shades in closer
touch the cartoon dragon
and half smile