Some of the best poems you'll read - Perigee

"Magnolia and Maxine Heading South"
by Tom Sheehan
Every time the red Corvette passed a
construction site, Magnolia tooted the horn and
waved wildly, tossing and flipping her hair in
the breeze or the draft, bouncing herself around
in the Corvette seat.
"They'll think about it all day and all night,
honey," she said to Maxine, "and they'll tell their
buddies about it over drinks tonight, sitting up
there at the bar shooting their own brand of
dreams and hopes and good wishes and shit and
shinola all rolled into one. Way they do things.
They'll have a nice night thinking 'bout what it
coulda been today we out there thumbing when
that little Firebird flew on by us like some
heav'nly star chariot, them two goddamn
angels sittin' proud up in it like they wuz
riper'n shit under a three holer. Most of them
deserve it, hunks a men all at sweating up this
world of ours, making it nicer right from the
ground up."
When Magnolia one time caught Max looking
sideways at her, she simply said, in a
straightforward voice, "I'm real, girl. Real as
they come," and she laughed again at another
inside joke, as if life was one great big show.
Once, about to pass a huge chrome-laden
Kenworth rig, baby-blue with white trim, wide
as a mortgage and hauling a long-body trailer,
her red hair flying like a special Triple A road
standard, but one without any admonitions, she
whipped her dress top down so her gorgeous
breasts beamed proudly in the sunlight. She
tooted the horn as she went slowly past the rig,
smiling at the driver almost falling out of his
side window, his face round, his arm huge.
"That'll take him from here to California and
back, hon, even if he's hauling shrimp out and