A little something from a day...

Red Electric Fender

Just beyond a long day,
and I’m riding shotgun, oblivious...
Hane, or is it Jane,
the wife of my eye,
driving towards some end less important
than the ‘us’ we’re enjoying.
And then James Dean incarnate appears
riding a skateboard stallion, conspicuous...
Some long tall drink and practiced detachment,
beneath dark loamy hair
and ‘blues player’ shades,
his cigarette pure dangled perfection, and
did I mention that red electric Fender,
slung over thin shoulders
like some righteous weapon?
Kindred pale Hendrix, where do you go?
And for brief moments
Hane and I rebel,
suddenly stoned and laughing.