I open up the garage,
Pull off the clean car cover
Of the American muscle, and
The light of the florescent bulbs
Reflects off the dark cherry paint.

I open the door
Gently with caution,
I get in,
And the distinctive
Old car smell coming of the tan leather
Interior hits me
Like the coolness in the dead of winter.

I put the key in the ignition and
Crank the 351 Chevy big block motor,
I hear the sound of that American muscle
Coming out of the duel flow master tubes
As I rev the engine like it’s
Urging me to floor it down the road.

I put it in drive,
Pull out of the drive way
In the crisp morning sun,
And check for the clearance,

I get ready
And nail the peddle
To the floor
And I hear that American muscle
Flowing through me like an adrenalin rush,
While the tires are squealing
On the dark cement road.