Their provisions included seagrams and coke and lip gloss,
Their clothing not at all appropriate for the trek across stone
And sand and glass and beach litter,
The road to the mountain full of teenage anticipation and expectation
The promise of nothing and everything.
They could see it from miles away,
Magnificent metal rising from surf
Chaotic colors screaming sex and summer,
Look at me, Look at me, I could be your girl!
They stood at the base and watched the machine,
Sweat and cigarettes and a little more seagrams
Then bravely into the belly, secured by all means of hooks and bars
And men with muscles, forward, reverse, faster, faster,
Do you want to go faster?
They danced in the neon sea, starlets on the boardwalk stage
Playing the part they rehearsed every day.
Drunk and daring, moonstruck and oh so terribly hopeful,
Everyone drawn to that magic mountain,
A nod to my birthplace and the most iconic teenage classroom and playground of all time, the Jersey shore.
photo credit: mlive.com