The Sunday Poem: Robert Masterson... Stealing Cars for Kelly Ashner

Ever tried to impress your fantasy girl?  The poet thinks back a few decades to when Albuquerque's used car lot owners were huge celebrities and Masterson entertained those sorts of dreams.  Actually, this sounds a lot like somebody who could be on television today.

Currently an English professor at the City University of New York’s Borough of Manhattan Community College campus, Masterson holds both a BA and an MA (with distinction) in English Literature from the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque; an MFA from Naropa University's Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics; and a weird little academic certificate from Shaanxi Normal University in the People’s Republic of China.


Stealing Cars For Kelly Ashner

I started stealing cars when
I fell in love with Kelly Ashner.
She said she'd give me cash
for the cars I didn't want and
I believed her.
I've had plenty of relationships based on less,
based on geography (we're both here),
based on psychology (we’re both fucked up)
based on physiology (we're both only human),
based on astronomy (it's getting late; look at the stars),
based on chemistry (I wonder what was in that pill),
based on anthropology (we've both got opposable thumbs).
Why not give economics a try?

I drive across the country finding good cars, clean cars, cars for Kelly's cash,
cars she would want to buy and the kind of cars that would make her father,
Ken Ashner himself, sit up and take notice and say
"I want to meet the young man who's bringing us these creampuffs.
By God, Kelly princess, bring me the man who brings me these cars!"
and that man was going to be me.

Through the Midwest for heavy iron,
the Cameros from Lincoln
the 442s from Ottumwa
a charger and a roadrunner
the western states for pick-ups and ram-trucks and jacked-up, fattened up,
baby monster trucks,
and finally California for those low mileage foreigners
and most are leased anyway.
Snag a ride and drive straight through from anywhere to Albuquerque
and talk to Kelly.
I'll take the trade and tell her
"Okay, Kell. See you soon!"
and she'll say
"Whoo-eee! I like the sound of that!"




Poetry submissions are encouraged.  Email theditchrider@gmail.com.


Views: 153

Comment by Margaret Randall on April 24, 2011 at 9:30am
I laughed out loud reading this one! Great poem!
Comment by Ben Moffett on April 24, 2011 at 10:13am
Levity, at last. This one could be turned into a novel.
Comment by Dee Cohen on April 24, 2011 at 10:42am
Funny, and with a good driving (ha!) rhythm to carry us through. I'd love to hear this one out loud.     Cool shots of you and the feline too. Thanks, Dee
Comment by cathyray on April 24, 2011 at 7:01pm
yipeeeee!
Comment by slamwagon on April 25, 2011 at 8:08pm

Love it.

 

Anybody else use the old Ken Ashner number when in quick need of a fake?

 

255-1101

Comment by Merimee Moffitt on April 27, 2011 at 11:42am
HEY ROBERT, I REMEMBER BEING IN CLASSES, MA PROGRAM, OR BA WITH YOU?  THE MYSTERY MAN--YOU ATTACHED TO A walking stick, I to many babies and gigs--  love yr poem--jealous about Jack Kerouac school--was it cool?  well, poet, you're still breathing --hmmm--and in the City too   luckeeeee  here here

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